


Got the Reference!

by katamanda, sailtheplains



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Car Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Memory Loss, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katamanda/pseuds/katamanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailtheplains/pseuds/sailtheplains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One has 1940s sensibilities and the other one doesn't give a shit. </p><p>First times together--Steve all confused and not knowing what to do. Bucky just goes with it cause, wth, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was staying at the Tower only temporarily. Firstly, because Steve felt it was his duty to naturally resist the live and let die nature of Stark. Secondly, they already had one guy who could punch through walls when he got angry, one guy who would punch through walls because he knew he could just buy new ones---and another who was mostly at home but seemed to like the Tower as his vacation spot and when they started bickering or roughhousing, walls got busted just because he knew Tony could replace them and then he and his (maybe reformed, probably not) brother could joke about how weak the walls were. (Though, to be fair, their teasing had gotten Stark out of a funk, trying to make a new kind of temper glass that could take a hit up to ten tons. He hadn't accomplished it yet--as a recent impromptu Nerf gun war had recently clarified for him. And also, it was not a good idea to hit Bruce Banner in the eye with a Nerf dart--and no, it didn't matter if it was an accident or not)

So the addition of himself--Captain America as he was--and then, of course, Bucky--he felt that was too much testosterone for one Tower. Banner was a good guy and Steve liked him--he was even mostly under control. In fact, Bruce had been the one who seemed to sympathize with Bucky the most. Tony might have--but you know, kill one guy's dad and he never really finds it in himself to forgive you quickly. But Tony had refrained from outright hostilities just yet. He even built Buck a new arm--of course, Steve didn't realize that Tony had made the plating for the hand detachable. The first time he'd woken up to crunching glass and run out into the living room with Tony standing on a piano, laughing and holding a softball bat and Bucky looking murderously up at him--his hand replaced with an egg beater (that spun furiously when Bucky tried to angrily flex fingers that weren't there)--Steve might have lost his temper a little bit. He had to get between the two of them immediately--and when Tony just laughed and tried to push him out of the way--something in Buck seemed to snap and he lunged--

Luckily, Banner was around and, as the Hulk--he'd grabbed Bucky in a bear hug and would not release him until Steve literally threw Stark down his basement stairs and then locked him in. "You can come out when your handler gets here," he said to the intercom and rather hoped Pepper wouldn't be back for awhile.

 

So Steve was back to apartment-hunting in New York. He'd already found a place--nice, quiet and private. He was already a peep-show when he was out in public--Bucky was starting to get the same treatment too. Even though they hadn't told anyone when they found him again--word got around when the Smithsonian revised their exhibit to tell what had happened between them.

He'd taken Buck to see the place. He had come a long way, his friend. Yeah, there was still a lot that Bucky didn't remember but at least he wasn't running off. It went unsaid that the two of them would stick together--after all, when it came to life experience--who else was there? Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, big kitchen and some lovely windows. One could see Liberty out there and the entirety of the harbor. They'd grown up in this town, the Lady was a permanent fixture of their connected childhoods. It would be a good place for them.

"I like it," Buck said quietly, touching the glass. "S'nice here. Quiet."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, looking sidelong at him.

"I'll kind of miss Stark, I think."

Steve did a slight double-take. "What?"

"Well, you know. He was interesting. I mean, who else would be ballsy enough to replace my hand with an egg beater."

Steve could help but smile and shake his head. "That's a good question, Buck."

"You still can't get used to Stark, huh?"

"....I can," Steve said. "Just. Different outlooks."

"Yeah right," Buck said, still looking out the window. "You two are two sides of the same coin. Just like we were."

Steve tensed a little. "Just like we _are_ , Bucky."

 

 

When they returned to the Tower, Bucky smiled a little at Stark. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, nodding to Pepper who was arguing with someone on the phone.

"You know, I'm gonna miss him, Cap. You'll bring him around for playdates, won't you? I like his sense of humor. Why don't you have one of those?"

Steve rolled his eyes. Beside him, Bucky sputtered a laugh. Steve headed to his room with Bucky. "Oh, Steve--c'mon, it was funny."

Steve looked at him.

"Okay, all right. I could see it though--that was Stark's attempt to be friendly."

"Yeah right."

"You're just too straight-forward, Steve," Bucky said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"That's rich coming from you, Buck," Steve told him, glancing at him in the mirror as Steve peeled off his jacket. For the hundredth time, he noticed how the dark circles had not faded from Bucky's face. How hollowed he still seemed--even his smile was tired.

"I am straight-forward about the things that matter. Like Natasha--spies and assassins, we know when to be straight-forward and when to lie like all hell. You're a terrible liar. You always have been--that's why Natasha is always trying to hook you up with people."

Steve sighed. "Buck."

"Is it or is that not true."

"Why would that have--"

"Cause you tell her you aren't lonely. You tell her you're fine. People actually believe that shit, you know? Out there, in the big stupid world--they actually think that you are somehow well-adjusted."

Steve was still standing by the mirror. He was watching Bucky in it. "Bucky, I _am_ fine."

"See. Terrible liar," Bucky told him, putting an elbow on one knee.

"What are you talking about?" Steve said finally, turning around and leaning back against the desk.

"Because everyone you know and love is dead. And the only one who isn't is rotting away in a nursing home--having lived a whole life without you. And then you find me and fuck if I can remember who you are. I've been mindfucked too many times by Nazis."

"I love these sunny conversations we have."

Bucky didn't answer. He just looked at him--that piercing grey-blue gaze. Steve sighed and looked away. "Yeah, okay--it's not that much of a stretch. I work a lot--that's good enough for me."

Bucky got up. "I'm _right here_ , you damn idiot."

Steve looked at him, really _at_ him. "...we're both..." _Lonesome_...

"How long has it been since anyone has touched you?"

Steve started. "W-what?!"

"Not like that, you idiot. I mean--you know. Normal-like stuff. It's gotta be as long as me, right? I mean, I killed people when they let me out--nobody wanted a hug afterwards."

"I dunno," Steve said, shrugging a little awkwardly. This wasn't like Natasha--whose inquiries he could just brush off. This was Bucky--his best friend. He felt compelled to answer.

Bucky got up and walked over to him. It was still weird for Buck to be shorter but that knock-off serum had, at least, given him a few more inches. Steve hadn't really been aware of it until his friend walked up to him. Something seemed to pass over Bucky's hollowed face. He reached out slowly. Steve's breath seemed to catch, watching as his friend's fingers touched his arm. "I felt you flinch," Buck said. "it's weird, right? It's weird for me too. I haven't touched anyone. I bet you haven't either. C'mon, do it too."

"It seems like you shouldn't be giving me social advice, Buck."

"Just shut up and do it, punk."

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes but he lifted his hand. it...really was more difficult than he thought it would be. Touching anyone without intent to fight or protect. Just...to touch someone else. For the sake of it.

It was strange--almost hypnotic, how they folded into each other. Buck slowly and uneasily put his chin down on Steve's shoulder, uncomfortable. Steve put his arm around him---like Buck had when he left for war. Like Buck had at Steve's mother's funeral. Like Buck....he looked down and found Buck glaring up at him. "W-what? Is it your arm? I'm sorry--"

"Shut up," Buck grumbled. He pushed their mouths together.

Steve jumped, jerking back from him. "Bu--"

Buck got that strange, hollow-eyed determined look on his face again. The intensity--like he'd had as the Soldier. He shoved Steve back against the wall. He was the only one who could do that, who could match his strength. Bucky grabbed him by the hair and jerked him down. Their mouths met. Steve's eyes, wide and blue stared back at the angry intensity in Buck's. The glare deepened and Buck forced a thigh inbetween his.

"Ah--!" Steve grunted against his mouth. His eyes unfocused briefly and heat spun and whirled deep in his abdomen. He hadn't felt that in a very, very long time. As a teenager, girls didn't want to date a skinny little loser who got beat up all the time. As a young man, who was he to compete with soldiers? During his brief time after the Serum--he'd had women flocking after him and he'd run for the hills--not knowing how to deal with it. And then came the ice. His whole face flushed red. His hands seemed to find their place at Buck's sides. That was all the encouragement Bucky needed.

Steve grunted, eyes screwing shut, teeth gritting as the sensation rocked through him. Buck was breathing in his ear, organic hand curled in his blond hair while the metal one ripped off the top four buttons of his shirt. He felt a bristle and suddenly--he picked James up and slammed him down on the desk. He leaned over him, grabbed his friend's face. Bucky snarled, palmed the front of his jeans--Steve's hips jerked. The desk slammed back into the wall---and broke in half.

He managed to grab Bucky, holding his friend against him so he wouldn't fall. The door opened, Pepper and Tony stood there. "Is everything all r--" Pepper ground to a halt, looking at them.

Steve jerked away from Bucky--red-faced, hair rucked, buttons torn, mortified.

Bucky just looked at them and shrugged. "What? Like you've never broken something with her?"

"I'm not paying for more damn furniture!" Tony said, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm not touching that either!"

Steve put his forehead in his hand. "Shut up, Tony."

"I'm not doing it! You guys are really---look, if you're gonna do that stuff, go to--"

"We're leaving." Steve said flatly. He headed for the door, moving perhaps too quickly.

Bucky just laughed. "Don't get jealous now, Tony. Pepper has plenty of time to dream about us." He winked.

"See if I fix up that damn arm the next time you smash it up!"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve said, slamming the door behind him.

"Why are the old people so mean to me?" Tony asked Pepper.

"Because one has 40s sensibilities and the other doesn't give a shit. Also, you're an ass."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

 

 

When they got back to the truck, Steve jumped in. "Buck--I--God I can't believe that just happened."

Bucky just leaned back in the seat, grinning. "Come on, it was worth it. The look on his face! And hey, the actual breaking wasn't too shabby either."

"I...I....." Steve kept staring at the wheel, not sure how to respond. He couldn't deny...it had felt...

"Aw... c'mon Stevie. Ya know I can't deal with those sad puppy eyes, they're practically a weapon of mass destruction."

Steve fumbled, dropped the keys and then slammed them into the ignition. He drove down the street, heading for the new apartment; distracted, fast, red-hot in his face.

"Hey, ya think this truck is any sturdier than that table in there?" Bucky's gaze was completely unrepentant.

Steve choked a little as he pulled into his parking space. "Buck--! I..." He could feel it, the hot twist already settling in him. "God, don't talk like that." It was weird...and...and, well--and some 40s part of him was ashamed.

"Why not, Stevie?" he smirked, sliding closer across the seat. "We were both on ice for seventy years -- or most of seventy years. We got a lot of time to make up for? Dontcha know, this century's all liberated and shit."

Steve swallowed hard. He stared at Buck. The flush was spreading down into his half-unbuttoned shirt. The seatbelt felt too tight, too close. "I...guess...." He managed. He swallowed hard. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so stilted in his lungs--pre-serum days, very likely.

"You blush like a dame," Bucky teased him, "Why don't you drive us somewhere quiet?" his hands traced up Steve's jaw.

Steve turned the keys again. He shivered, forcing his eyes back to the road as he drove them out of town. He felt the steering column creak and had to consciously remind himself to ease up so he didn't _rip the wheel off_ (like Bucky had). Bucky flipped on the radio and sat back, grinning and eyeing up the streets they passed. The light was dim when he pulled into a deserted lot, an empty park. Steve could still feel the ghost of Buck's touch on his face.

He wasted no time. As soon as they stopped, Bucky uncoupled the seatbelt (and why did they even need seatbelts anyway, the two of them?) before swinging his leg over and sliding into Steve's lap, kissing him hotly the moment he killed the engine.

Steve gasped softly. His hands naturally settled at Buck's narrower waist. "B-Buck..." he murmured, kissing back hard. He panted, renewing the kiss. His fingers curled into Buck's shirt, pulling.

"Seventy fuckin' years." he muttered, even if he didn't remember it, even if they were sleeping for most of it... he swallowed thickly, cupping Steve's jaw and rubbing his thumbs over the beginning growth of stubble.

Steve's breath stuttered out of him. His want, need. It was in his grip, his fingers, the strength that he didn't have to hold back with Buck. He could take it. He was the only one who could take it. Steve was shy and awkward but that hot flush seared him from head to toe and he yanked Buck's shirt open and off.

"Nice, Rogers," he purred, lips trailing down his neck, cool metal fingers slipping under Steve's shirt. Too tight shirt, teasingly tight shirt. Seriously did he buy a size small or was he just that damn buff nothing fit him?

"Ah---I--I didn't hurt your...arm?" he slurred. He felt his muscle ripple at the contrast of Buck's live hand versus the metal one. There was something blazing hot about that but Steve wasn't sure what to call it.

"Take a lot more to hurt me." he assured him, blue-grey eyes meeting Steve's brighter one's. "I can take ya, punk." He sank his teeth into the soft unmarred skin of Steve's neck.

"Hah---! Buck...." His hips rolled up into Buck. His fingers crawled up his skin, tracing scars, the metal plating in his back and shoulder, exploring everything. One hand managed to flap down. He hit the adjustment lever and the seat slid back, giving them more room.

Bucky grinned wider, "Can get all kinds of things saying my name like that." His name, bestowed by Steve when they were just kids. James was boring, Buchanan was a mouthful. It never sounded right except when Steve said it. "Fuck!" And then he laughed as the seat slid back and ground their hips together with extreme enthusiasm. His metal hand rode Steve's shirt up higher as he touched his chest.

Steve groaned and grunted softly. His shirt went higher, spine arching up into Buck's touch. "B-Buck..." he shuddered, mouth dry, eyes wide.

"Yeah." he groaned, kissing him again, tongue sliding into his mouth. Bucky pulled his hands out from under Steve's shirt and worked quickly at the button and zipper of his jeans, getting them open and pulling his underwear down. "Pretty nice, Steve." he took his cock in both hands.

Steve choked. "Ah---Buck, that---" his hands shook, opening up his friend's belt. There had been other times, other moments--drinking--when he'd helped Buck out of his clothes. But...this....this way... Just the intensity wrecking through his body. Buck's belt snapped when he jerked too hard. But he still managed to get his trousers open.

Bucky gasped and laughed again, all kinds of breathless this time. His face was starting to get a little red, pupils blown huge and black in the dark as he looked down at Steve. "Owe me a new belt." he murmured against Steve's lips, licking them as his hands worked.

"Can have...one of mine....," he panted, and then groaned, gritting his teeth as Bucky's hands went to work on him. "Ah--ah! _Nnnn_!"

"Jesus!" he swore, eyes glued to Steve's face. Fuck, fuck like that wasn't the hottest thing on God's green Earth. His own hips jerked reflexively. Flesh and metal provided sharp contrast as they touched him.

Steve grabbed onto Buck--his cock was hard, long--he couldn't think. He just stroked it like he had as an adolescent when he'd get rejected for a date. He stroked, up and down--his hand slick with sweat. He thumbed the head, massaging behind it.

"Yeah, yeah," he encouraged, chanted, lips attacking Steve's, going down his jaw and neck as he thrust into his hand. "Fucking... fuck!" Bucky swallowed thickly, sinking his teeth in again as he squeezed Steve's cock and thumbed the head.

Steve moaned, "Ah--!" His whole body seized, arching up and into Buck as he came all over his friend's fingers.

Bucky swore louder, making it good they were out away from any decent human being (company withstanding). He came in hot waves, gasping as sweat ran down his temples. "God damn."

"Ngh..." Steve answered as his body settled back down into the seat. He held Bucky close, panting in his ear. His head was spinning as the world slowly came back into focus. "Buck....." he whispered, still murmuring, breathless. "....don't run off..not again..."

Bucky breathed heavily, letting go of his cock and slumped efficiently downwards against Steve's impossibly broad chest. "Wha..." he murmured, then caught up to the words, "Ah, Steve..." he lifted his head, hair hanging around his face. "Not in a million years, never again." He couldn't, he never could. He had that same fear, he couldn't leave or be left. His self, his memories still hung on thin threads and his world -- it all hung on Steve, it all was Steve.

Steve nodded weakly and kissed him again--slower this time, slow and deep. It was a long moment before they could move---but their enhanced metabolism and everything else got them going again quickly. Steve started the truck and they drove to his apartment. Steve took off his t-shirt to clean them up and make them presentable. He balled up the shirt and stuffed it in his gym bag. They headed upstairs.

 

 

He stood with Buck in the dim light. Close the door, turn the lock. Now they were alone. His pupils were large and black. Still with some restraint, some inherent shyness, he looked over Bucky again. Eyes examining, taking in, committing to memory. He was slower this time, reaching out to carefully touch Bucky's jawline.

Buck stood still, watching Steve, some of his cockiness (real or aped) faded under Steve's gaze. The damn punk always had a way of seeing through Bucky's swagger, understanding him more than anyone. Even now, he'd been molded to the shadows, the perfect assassin until Steve said his name on that bridge. He leaned forward, keening into that touch, his flesh hand reached up to cover Steve's.

Steve swallowed hard. He had always been rejected---for so long, though Bucky didn't remember yet--in his friend's shadow. Uncertain about relationships, desperately throwing himself into fights. But now....now he and Buck were....basically equals. His mouth was so dry. He leaned in and kissed Bucky again--for the first time of his own accord. Bucky leaned upwards to meet him, that difference in height still took some getting used to. In some ways Bucky missed Steve being small enough to tuck under his arm, to curl around--but he was healthy, happier now. He was better, and it hadn't changed the parts of Steve that Bucky had always loved best anyway.

 Steve's other hand braced him against the wall, pushing Bucky to stand against it. He kissed him harder, other hand grabbing into Bucky's side.

Hands grasped Steve's shoulders, then slid more cozily around his neck, drawing them together impossibly tight. Bucky shuddered despite himself, liking this side of Steve, that feisty kid with a mouth too big for the rest of him turned super soldier, "Always knew you had it in ya," he gasped between kisses.

Steve swallowed, shuddered. "Goddamn," he said, a little laugh coughing out at the end. "Don't talk like that." But he was smiling, embarrassed, red-faced---but he was fighting the old-fashioned shame away.

"You're too adorable, Rogers." He grinned against his mouth, "Ain't nothing to be embarrassed about between us." As if to prove a point Bucky wedged a thigh between Steve's.

And well, it was kind of hot when he...talked like that. As much as Steve couldn't look him in the eye when he had the thought. Steve's fingers curled up against the wall, grunting. His head bowed, touching his left temple to Buck's. "I....haven't ever...I mean...well--you've...been with girls, right?"

"Yeah?" He answered, not completely surprised that Steve hadn't--given the circumstances. "I've had girls, think we can work it out between us."

Steve swallowed audibly. "I...my dad would shoot me. Ha...I guess its good that he's....dead. I mean---you know. Just cause. Nobody...uh...understood p-people back then. People who...do..." He gestured vaguely towards himself and Bucky--and their positions.

"You're thinking too hard," he muttered, picking up on his uncertainty. "Whole new century, we're here now, not then. Ha... always sort of cut those thoughts off before they started. Not now though, come through a lot of shit to get here, we gotta enjoy it, pal." He pressed his thigh more firmly upwards, stroking Steve's face with his fingers.

He looked under his bangs, meeting Bucky's eyes. He blinked rapidly and then nodded--grunting at the friction. He moved in closer, tight, chest to chest. He ground against Bucky, ground his friend against the wall, grinding their hips together. Steve closed his eyes, feeling his cheekbone--move into Bucky's longer hair and then duck down and grab his mouth. Hard, fast, shallow breaths against his mouth.

Christ!" Bucky gasped, panting against his ear. "Off, off..." he muttered, shirts were thankfully already gone (and he was taking plenty of advantage of that with his hands) but there were still too many clothes on the both of them. He didn't care if they made it to the bed or not, he needed Steve right the hell now.

He pulled back at Bucky's words. "O-off?" he asked. "Did I--is it your arm? I'm sorry. Are you okay? Was I too rough?"

"Steve!" Bucky barely restrained laughing, "Your jeans, punk." He looked up at him, "Come on, stop worrying for me, yeah? I ain't fragile here. I know you're all big man with the super strength, not the only one in this room--though you still got me beat." His metal thumb rubbed Steve's bottom lip.

"O-oh. Uh. Oh. Right. Okay. Uh--sorry." He took a quick breath. His eyes were drawn down to that metal thumb. The very end of his tongue couldn't seem to help it...just barely there--peeked out and took a quick flick of the metal. Then it disappeared back into his mouth. Grit, titanium, heat--the metallic tang that he assumed would be there but he just...wanted to taste--just quickly. Not anything weird. He hoped Bucky hadn't seen--he'd think he was a weirdo for sure. He didn't look up to find out, keeping his eyes down. His hands moved--suddenly very aware that he was standing in front of his friend. They were bare-chested, flushed and he was about to...to take off his jeans. Bucky was standing back against the wall, leaning easily, relaxed like some magazine model. He rubbed his cheek with a roll of his shoulder and started.

His fingers were shaking a little, clumsy and thick with nerves. He snapped the buckle on his belt by mistake and then pulled it off with a jerk.

Bucky saw and felt a hot flush race through him as he did. He swallowed thickly, watching Steve struggle and then took pity on his friend. "Here, dummy." His voice was hoarse, throat dry as he went down onto his knees, hands reaching up to undo the button and zipper, pushing the jeans off Steve's hips as well as his underwear. Steve's cock, oh yeah, he licked his lips before leaning in, warm hand taking hold of it as he pressed his lips to the head.

Steve froze, eyes going wide. "N-no--Buck--don't--" He strangled a cry, planting his hands on the wall above Buck. A full-body shudder worked him from head to toe.

"Buck, yes," he replied, smirking and damn if he didn't make his name sound like what so closely rhymed with. Bucky opened his mouth and wrapped it around Steve's cock, slowly easing him in deeper.

He folded over, muscles in his arms standing out to brace himself. "Oh..." He moaned--unable to choke it back, long and gruff. Bucky sucked, working his mouth back and forwards. His hand worked with his mouth, tongue sliding along the underside. The muscles in his thighs quivered a little. "Buck--I--I'm--I'm gonna...Buck..." He grit his teeth, trying to hold back.

"Fucking do it," he hissed, pulling back for a moment before sliding his mouth right back down, taking Steve in as deeply as he could.

"Ah--!" He panted out loud, jerking forward and coming hard into his mouth. He gasped, grabbing into the wall.

Bucky groaned, his mouth worked, swallowing down the salty taste of come. He leaned back, panting, saliva -- and more -- running down his chin. "Jesus, Steve, you're so damn hot."

Steve sunk down to his knees in front of Bucky. "I...are you...ah--that--" he grabbed a box of Kleenex from the nighttable and snatched a handful, clumsily helping Buck wipe his face.

Bucky smiled, slightly dazed but beyond pleased with himself. He submitted to Steve's care contentedly, leaning forward the moment he was done to kiss him again. "First time sucking cock--not bad, huh?"

Steve half-smiled. "I...yeah. I dunno. I think you, uh....you did okay." He put his forehead in his hand and laughed.

He snickered along with him, "Hey, look at that, you're lightening up finally. If that was all it took I coulda done it a few times back in the forties."

Steve's eyes shut--he laughed--or started to. Though those words brought up a mental image that made Steve's breath suddenly shorten. His cock twitched and he was embarrassed that he was still hard. But just the thought--suddenly. Why hadn't it ever occurred to him? Bucky had always protected him, looked after him when he was sickly. He knew how Buck was with girls--commanding sort of...loom. But a good kind of loom....that made you feel...protected, safe, not a worry...If Bucky had offered sickly Steve a blowjob in an alley, in his house, in...uniform. He shook his head to himself, forcing his head up and his eyes open. He removed his socks--felt weird with just his socks on. "Um, do you wanna....go to, uh--uh--the room?"

"Damn straight I wanna go to the room." He grinned, kissing him again, "Follow my captain anywhere."

Bucky was the one who stood first, still with his jeans on, offering Steve a hand up with an appreciative glance.

Steve got up, somehow feeling younger than he was. Bucky's calloused fingers wrapped around his own. Half-leading, half-following to one of the bedrooms. The bed was there--though he hadn't put sheets on yet--just thrown a blanket over it. He swallowed. "Um--I guess I don't---know how the serum effects your, uh....you know. Um--it seems to...keep going for me. I figured--I mean--you and Natasha might have---you know. So maybe you would know how yours, uh....enhances...you. I mean--dammit," he said, bowing his head and rubbing his temples. "You know what I mean," he said quickly.

"I think the word is libido, Steve." Bucky supplied, grinning, "You'll get the hang of the lingo, soon enough." He smirked, pushing Steve down and straddling his waist. "Wasn't so much planning on this tonight, guess we're strictly on the oral -- another important word there -- but that's alright, plenty of options there still." His eyes glimmered with mischief. "Maybe once you're passed the 'so shy you could die' stage we could invite her."

He stared up at Bucky, eyes wider. "Wh-what?! invite--N-Natasha?!"

"Too much, huh?" he smiled, tracing Steve's lips with his fingers. "It's okay, I can talk dirty to you in Russian on my own. I don't wanna share you for a while anyway."

"How would that even work," he asked and then stopped. Bucky was tracing his mouth. And he felt another flush sear up into his face. "B-Buck...." he took a breath and swallowed hard.

"You got a lot to learn, Steve." He smiled, taking Steve's hand and lifting it to his face, kissing his fingers and hoping it didn't show just how hard his heart was beating. Bucky rolled his hips downwards, clothed cock grinding against his friend.

Steve's eyes were fixed on him, blue getting darker. He cupped Bucky's jaw and grunted. His gripped his fingers into Bucky's jawline and pulled him in. He shivered, burning up inside like a chemical fire. He, once again, opened up Bucky's trousers. He swallowed hard, looking back up at his friend. "Did you wanna..." he looked aside, saying the words was so hard. "...um, you know." He asked, fingers slipping just under the hem of Bucky's jeans.

"You can say it, Steve," he gasped, rocking forward in anticipation. "It's me, you can say it." God he liked it, liked that strong hold on his jaw, pulling him down.

His shoulders hunched a little. "Did you...want me to...I mean--take your, uh, clothes...." His other hand jerked, pulling on his jeans just a little, revealing a hip bone.

"Oh yeah, yeah, you definitely can." Bucky lifted himself up onto his knees, allowing Steve to pull his jeans down. He'd lost some of the muscle mass he'd had under Hydra's care, too much downtime, not eating properly, holed up for the most part. Now some kind of cross between that and the leanness of his old self before Zola got his hands on him. He kissed Steve hard.

Steve watched, his natural curiosity drawing his eyes down. Bucky was covered in scars. He was lean, but still strong. There was nothing narrow and slender about him. He wasn't beautiful or dainty like some showgirl. He was, obviously, a man. A lean man now, but a strong man. When he was healthy again...he'd be even more. Steve slid the denim and boxers down. His heart rushed and he cautiously reached out. Gently, his fingertips skimmed Bucky's outer thigh before gently cupping it. He looked back up at Bucky, meeting his kiss, grip tightening in his flesh.

 "That's it," he shuddered, lifting his legs to slide them off over the knee, he'd have to move off Steve to get rid of them completely. Bucky wasn't sure he could do that right now. His hair fell about them. The metal hand rested on Steve's chest lightly.

He could feel how hard he was. And that was different--he'd never felt another, well, that. But he could feel Buck's, fever hot and hard, pressing insistently against his forearm. He moved his hand from his friend's thigh, up to his waist. The other hand joined it on the opposite side and he yanked Bucky in closer. Their cocks brushed, making Steve grunt softly. He leaned in, nosing lightly at the metal plating that reached down onto his chest. The scent was....strange but welcome. He couldn't look up at Bucky for his approval when he leaned in close enough to see his reflection and gently put his mouth on the seam between metal and flesh.

"Jesus." The arm's plates shifted as they did at times. Bucky had never exactly been able to pin down why. Stark said it might be linked to emotion, good a reason as any -- it had happened far more when Bucky got those back. A low moan sounded as their cocks rubbed together, and then again as Steve's mouth went there. "Oh..."

He glanced up to make sure he was not in any pain and then continued. Experimental, gentle, he mouthed carefully up that seam. He got the metallic tang, sweat, warm Italian skin on his tongue. Because Buck was sitting on his lap, he had to crane his neck to reach his shoulder. "Buck......" Steve closed his eyes and his fingers wrapped around their cocks, pinning them together. He exhaled sharply against Bucky's jawline.

"Ah, Steve," he whispered, shakily, loosing his calm. "Oh damn, yeah, keep going." he put his fingers in Steve's hair, rocking his cock into his hand, against Steve's. Bucky arched his head back, baring his throat.

He obeyed, could do nothing but obey. His hands descended on them, stroking the shafts. His left hand slid along Buck's thigh, brushing curiously against his balls before retreating back to stroking with his right hand. Bucky made an odd choking sound, moving more frantically forward. His metal hand clenched at Steve's shoulder, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he gasped, moaning when he came hot and sudden, spurting over Steve. His damn mouth so hot on his throat.

Steve looked up at him, gauging his reaction. His blue eyes were glazed, heated, watching Bucky's expressions as he came.

Bucky groaned, his head falling forward, breathing hard. "Like a... you're some kind of natural, Steve..." he looked down at him, smiling dopily.

He snorted a laugh and put his eyes to Buck's shoulder. "You okay?"

"M'okay." He threaded his fingers through Steve's hair gently, "More than okay. Feeling better than ever." He nuzzled the top of Steve's head.

He gently lifted his friend. Laying him down at the head of the bed, he found himself on his side, leaning over Buck. His fingers were curious, exploring over Bucky's skin, scars, seared flesh, metal plate.

Bucky smiled, looking up at him now. He twitched just a little at those exploring fingers, sometime's his breath caught as Steve's fingers trailed over a particular scar -- not from pain but barely there flash of memory. He nuzzled back, "I know you," he mumbled.

Steve started, blinked and something....something darkened in his eyes. He grabbed Buck, his mouth a thin line. "Yeah, you know me." Steve was still hard. So was Buck. He grabbed his friend's cock. "You know me." He stroked, rough and hard.

Bucky whimpered, his mouth hung open, a strangled cry as his hips bucked (hah), "Steve!" he said, "I do, I do..."

"No forgetting," he grunted. "No darkness." He stroked harder, the intensity took over his eyes. He stared down into Buck's, fingers slick from his recent release. He stroked harder, rougher, leaned in and grabbed his mouth, dominating, hard.

"No cold--" he moaned into his mouth, surging back, surrender and overwhelming need, trust inherent in every movement. Bucky wrapped his arms around him tightly, caught in that heat in his friend's eyes, he half shook from it.

His bit down his throat, into his shoulder, sucking them as he focused on stroking Buck. He braced himself up on one knee, touching Buck's chest and metal with his free hand.

Bucky arched his entire body, back lifting off the mattress when he came--as his hands clawed down Steve's back, "Fuck!" he said in a strangled voice, "Steve!"

Steve was completely still, watching Bucky, his expressions, his face, the moan of his name. And when he'd eased him back down--the spell broke. The intensity from Steve's eyes dissipated and he seemed just normal, good-natured, shy Steve again.

He panted, blinking up at him blearily. Bucky reached up and gently traced Steve's face, watching that change and swallowing hard at what had just happened. Oh God, what had just happened? His heart hammered at the thrill of it. There were no words, just drawing their faces together, noses brushing. He reached down, sliding his (flesh) hand around Steve's cock and stroking roughly.

Steve's eyes fluttered closed. He got on both knees, one hand skimming back to Bucky's thigh and pulling it up to his hip. He leaned over him again, kissing soft--grunting when Buck touched him again. "Ah......."

Still no words were coming, it was okay. They kissed, mouths and tongues sliding together, Bucky's hand working over Steve's shaft. His metal one moved, delicately lower to touch his balls. Steve's eyes shot back open. The cold metal shocked him, exhilarating. He grunted, bucked against him. Bucky's lips curved up in a smile, his eyes greedily drinking in Steve's face, watching him come undone like this was beyond anything. He kissed and nipped at his jaw, continuously flicking his eyes up to meet Steve's. He stared back, jerked and came. He trembled a little, breathing hard. He broke eye contact to look down, panting.

Bucky let go, slowly, wiped his hands on the bedding carelessly before moving his arms round to embrace his friend, tugging him down to lay his weight over Bucky. It was good, nice, warm and reassuring. He rubbed his cheek against Steve's own. "Got jelly legs," he mumbled.

It took Steve several minutes to be able to relax on Bucky. "M-me too..." he murmured. "I...did I hurt you at all?"

"Naw." He rubbed his hand in lazy circles over Steve's back. "Relax Cap, I'm all good. I got ya." It was strange... echoes in his head, Steve small and himself always, always... _Are you okay, are you warm enough, slow down before you get an attack, Steve._ He could've been offended by the switch, except he wasn't. Wasn't like Steve had stopped needing him.

 

Eventually, he would shift on his side, pulling Bucky to him. "You always have, I guess. Ha...since we were kids...you looked out for me when no one else did..."

Bucky rolled onto his side, unashamedly cuddling up to him. "You bet your ass I did." He smiled, "You were a pretty dumb kid sometimes, needed someone to keep an eye on ya." He rested his head on the pillow so they could look eye to eye. "I liked how scrappy you were for a little guy."

"I tried hard....sometimes too much." He stared at Bucky and suddenly--it just seemed to sweep over him. Everyone was gone. No shared life experience. And now he was back with his best friend...he swallowed, looking down and taking some stiff breaths. "It's...I'm sure you understand, actually---good to be back with someone I know. I mean, like... _know_."

"Hell, it's good to know." Bucky said, twisting his mouth in one of those jokes he'd started to make more and more frequently. "... it's okay, Steve. I'm here with you, we're together, you and me. Us against the world. Ain't nothing gonna get in the way of that again."

He nodded, felt small again. He embraced him, put his head on the pillow.

"It's okay, Steve," he murmured, kissed his forehead, slipping back into his old role with ease. "Get some sleep, yeah? I got ideas for tomorrow." his eyes glinted with barely restrained mischief.

He nodded, ideas meant Bucky had something he wanted to do. Maybe run around the city or something. He dozed off, warm for the first time in a long time.

He hadn't got the reference but that was all right. Buck would make sure he learned it.


	2. Tiny Giraffes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The giraffes on the shirt are small and cute.
> 
> Steve is not small. In any way. But he is some degree of clueless.

During the night Bucky shifted and turned, he rarely slept still these days, but the nightmares left him alone at least. They'd been getting better, bothering him less and less these past few months. So Bucky woke first, surprisingly given he'd gotten the diet version of the serum, while Steve was the full sugar original. The beginning aversion to sleep still lingering was probably to blame, he'd had the worst case of insomnia since he broke Hydra's control after all. No one had blamed him for that. He carefully slipped away from Steve and to the bathroom, taking his time to enjoy the brunt of water turned to very edge of unbearable heat before getting out. Bucky pulled on his underwear and jeans from last night (not grabbing the possessions they'd had at the tower was probably something to be rectified later) and one of Steve's clean shirts -- long sleeved -- before heading in to the kitchen to raid the fridge with his hair still dripping down his neck. If he had a shit-eating grin of happiness on his face the entire time who was there to judge?

Steve woke a bit later. He felt a stab of panic when he saw that Bucky was gone. In a flash, he was out of bed, opening the bedroom door. He heard sounds in the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief. He drug his fingers through his hair and looked down, seeing what a mess he was. The aftermath of last night was...well, everywhere. Hastily discarded clothes, rucked blankets--needed to be washed. He pulled everything off the bed (and pulled on boxers) and took their clothes and the blanket to the washer in the hallway. He didn't enter the kitchen yet--but he could still hear Buck there. So that was enough. Just so long as he hadn't bolted again. Maybe he worried because Steve wasn't sure how to face him. If they were still okay. If whatever spell had been over yesterday was broken. If things were still...well...different now. He felt better than he had in a long time--which was weird to admit. But he couldn't help it. The ache of loneliness and all that. He headed back into the bedroom, opened the closet and grabbing the package of sheets he hadn't yet unwrapped. He made the bed up and as he was turning towards the door---he saw himself in the mirror.

There were still more than traces of the aftermath of last night. it made him embarrassed to look at. He headed for the shower.

 

In the kitchen Bucky heard the shower start up and scooped up a handful of dry cereal with a grin, crunching it between his teeth. It was the depressingly healthy kind, like Steve hadn't even noticed the existence of Coco Pops and Count Chocula yet. He leaned back against the counter, eating dry cereal and drinking water until the sound of the shower cut off and then sauntered back to the bedroom.

"So turns out leaving your apartment for a few months at Stark's tower leaves very little edi --" he stopped to admire wet and lovebitten Steve for a good thirty seconds, "Uh, yeah, grocery shopping. Should probably do that."

Steve had a towel wrapped around his waist. "Uh--oh. Uh--yeah. Yeah." He looked down and then up, gauging his reaction. "Uh---we're...we're okay and everything. Right?"

Damn Steve, of course--Bucky should have guessed. "Of course we are." he rolled his eyes, smiling and popping a few more dry cornflakes into his mouth. Bucky smiled up at him, crunching away and swallowing before leaning up to pop another kiss on Steve's lips. "You fuss too much."

Steve blinked at the kiss and a half-smile, shy, came over his face. He nodded. "O-okay." His face warmed. "We can...make a list."

"Can we get McDonald's? Darcy brought me it once," Bucky asked him, their noses brushing. "I could eat a cow if you know where to get one."

"Ah--y'yeah," he said instantly, only sort-of hearing his request. "I can get some---steaks from the store too. Uh. I'm sure its...been awhile."

Bucky grinned like a kid, he pressed up against Steve. "Best finish waking up and getting dressed then. I made coffee." Damn if Steve wasn't hilarious like this, like a confused puppy.

He nodded several times. "Okay," he said and turned, fumbling open his closet--where he had a few changes of clothes. Jeans, socks, blue t-shirt with the little giraffes on it. He didn't even notice them. He pulled on shoes and then came out to the kitchen. God, and Bucky was there. Still there. Like he'd always been there. Looking so easy and relaxed and comfortable.

Who the heck had bought Steve that? Because Bucky wanted to fist bump them. He bet it was Natasha, ninety-nine percent. "Not going anywhere without you." Bucky said, smiling, he bumped their shoulders together. "Lead the way, captain."

Steve laughed a little, beaming. In his truck (truck, Buck, fu--) He focused on driving. First to McDonald's for sausage biscuit sandwiches, coffee, those fried hashbrown things. Apple pies. And then to the store. Picking out groceries with Bucky was...strangely domestic. He had never felt so hopeful getting groceries before.

"Ya'd think they never saw two guys eat six persons worth of food between 'em." Bucky said conversationally, feeling warm and full on greasy morning food.

He hung close to Steve the whole way, pulling the long sleeve of Steve's shirt down over his metal hand. Maybe he hung closer than was comfortable, chatting away and hiding the occasional nervous flicker of his eyes ( _exitcheckexitcheck--threeguardsican_ ), taking Steve's hand with his right one as they neared the checkout and gripping tight.

Steve looked sidelong at him when Buck grabbed his hand. "Are you okay?" he murmured, worry, concern carved into his eyes. He paid and they walked out. The groceries went into the truck and then climbed in. "Are you all right? Or is just being...around all these people?"

"I'm okay... I am... crowds just..." he didn't let go. "I'm fine. Trying to think about not killing people. Let's go back, yeah? One for the "Bucky Barnes can go out in public" sticker page."

"Okay..." he said quickly. He drove back fast and quiet. He took all the groceries and gave Bucky his keys to open the door. "I'll start the steak, okay? Just--sit down, relax. I'll get you some...water or whatever you want, okay?"

"Clint actually got me gold star stickers... stuck over the red one in one of the nests..." he said, rubbing his forehead, "You... think I peeled 'em off before you saw." Bucky shook himself, "I'm okay." Still he opened the door and sat down at Steve's behest, finding the remote and switching on the television to banish the quiet. He liked Cartoon Network.

Steve started the meat. He kept looking back into the the living room anxiously. Maybe this was how Bucky had always felt when they were kids...and he was always sick...all the time...relapse after relapse after relapse...

Bucky would have relapses too. He knew that. He did. His wiped his hands on his jeans and took him some hot tea.

"Tea," he said after a moment, "Natalia's been working on you again. Or is that Banner?" Bucky took it though, cradling the mug gently.

"Thought coffee might be hard on your stomach if you don't feel good..." He sat on the coffee table, looking him over.

"Therapist says I gotta keep pushing boundaries. So does Sam, unofficial second therapist." Bucky sipped it and it was good. Not as good as Banner's but that guy practically lived on the stuff.

"Does that include coffee? Cause I can make you some..."

"Nah, tea's good." He smiled at him, "I'm alright, Steve. I'm getting better, you know?" he reached out with his flesh hand (transferring the cup to the metal one) and took Steve's hand. "I ain't going back."

Steve's earnest blue eyes searched his friend's face. He nodded a little.

 

"I dunno if you still like medium-rare but you used to," Streve supplied, putting a plate down on the table.

He remembered his name and where he was every day now, he remembered Steve, he remembered his friends. Did he remember steak? "Could eat a cow, remember?" he smiled at him, picking up the knife and fork and digging in. "Your cooking improved, punk."

D-do you still like that? Uh, medium rare?" Steve watched him closely.

"Seem to." he said, tearing into the steak further. It did taste good, the meat melting in his mouth. There was one of those moments where everything was layered, Steve sat small and skinny opposite him. "Never had it much, did we?"

"No. We didn't." He said quietly. "Definitely not during the Great Depression or any time before. And after, well...the New Deal helped but the war..."

"Good meat didn't come to people like us." he murmured, juice running down his chin. He absently wiped it with the back of his sleeve. "I used to filch your ma chicken." It sounded oddly like a confession.

He blinked in surprise that he'd remembered that kind of detail. "...I know---but I'm glad you remember. Ha...I never brought it up. She was so grateful to you. You saved my life on more than one occasion with the thieving," he said quietly.

 

And he had--it had started one October, Steve coming down with pneumonia or whatever he was in for again. They couldn't afford medicine and he'd gone weeks holding back so his mother wouldn't know he was sick again. And as he walked home from school with Buck--he couldn't control the spasms and the coughing and the darkness....and when he woke up, his mother was there. Buck was coming inside with a bottle. Buck gave it to her. She searched his eyes....

 

"I could never repay you. I could never help her. Maybe that's really why I never brought it up." His eyes darkened. "I was ashamed of my weakness."

Bucky's eyes flicked up, "Tch. You were the toughest kid on the block, others couldn't hold a candle to you. Wouldn't have survived half the shit you did. Weren't never weak, Steve, didn't need the serum to prove that."

"Should have adopted you when we had the chance though..."

"Would have liked that. Might've made our latest development a bit more awkward though." Bucky smiled lopsidedly.

Steve choked, as it just remembering. He barked out a laugh, reddening. After a moment, he shook his head, still chuckling. "I'm glad you're here now, anyway--I mean. Now I have more money than I know what to do with. So you don't have to thieve anymore and I don't have to--you know, lie in bed and be sick all the time."

"Everybody wins." he said dryly and then finished his steak before moving to help Steve do the washing up after. Bucky leaned up close, shoulders touching. He seemed to have completely calmed, recovering the balance he'd had this morning. "Got any plans today, Rogers?"

Steve looked at him. "Plans? No--oh, oh, that's right! I remember, you said you wanted to make plans for today?" He smiled, the little giraffes on his shirt smiled too.

"Aw Steve, you're so damn cute," he sighed, kissing him again. "Pick one of those movies you got on that list of yours, my plan can wait a little longer."

"Oh...are you sure?" he asked.

 

They ended up on the couch and Steve went for the Pixar movies. He'd heard they were good. And probably happier than action movies. Less death--less familiarity. The opening of UP was still a little hard to watch but after about twenty minutes Bucky snuggled up against Steve, pulling his legs up onto the couch and tucking his head in on the bigger man's shoulder. It was good, funny, he smiled all the way through.

"If we ever get a dog I'm voting Doug for the name."

"Sure, we'll get something big, strong and fun. Something we can run with." Steve absently stroked Buck's hair.

"Golden retriever, his other name will be Steve-two." he murmured, nudging his head into the contact like an eager cat.

"Tch--Steve-two, Bucky sounds more like a dog's name." He chuckled.

"You calling me a dog, Rogers?" he grinned up at him. "Gotta admit you look like a sappy puppy half the time."

"Tch--a big shaggy mongrel!" he said, laughing, touching their foreheads together.

Bucky laughed, pressing himself forward. His hands cupped Steve's cheeks, "Should act like one then, huh?" and licked a stripe across Steve's mouth.

"Yea--" the tongue cut him off. He stayed smiling though. It took him an extra second but he leaned forward to kiss him.

That's good--Steve needed to stop flushing red at everything. Buck liked it when he responded without the sputtering. . "This is all I want, you, me, a place." he murmured, kissing him more firmly.

"M-Me too," Steve finally admitted. Out loud. For someone else to hear. "I do too. Me, you...yeah. I--I want that too. I've failed so much," he said, kissing him harder, breaking, "I've made so many mistakes. I was ready on the helicarrier to let you kill me. I'd had enough of being in this place alone. And if I found you and you couldn't remember me--then there really was no point."

"God, Steve." he shuddered, shaking his head. "Always so damn noble," Bucky let his fingers play with the hair at the nape of Steve's neck. "You never failed, things happened, things out of yours or my control -- did your best, all anyone can do. You saved a hell of a lot of people." Bucky kissed him, "I'm here, I remember you now."

Steve could only nod a little, silently. And then he kissed him again, hand pushing under his shirt, touching that metal seam again. Bucky gasped, shivering. Something about when Steve touched him there... the actual nerves were deadened but maybe it was just the fact, the fact Steve didn't find it or the arm repulsive. "Steve..." he slid his tongue into his mouth.

He groaned softly, pulling at the fabric, getting Bucky out of his sleeves. The metal arm glinted and gleamed, touched up by Stark tech, the afternoon sunlight set the plates off beautifully. Beauty in a killing tool. "I want you to fuck me, Stevie."

Steve froze. His eyes opened wide, he stared at him. "Wh-what?! I...Buck--I've never...."

"That's all right. I learned a lot of weird stuff as an assassin." He grinned, heart fluttering in his chest. "Know what I'm doing in theory at least."

"I don't wanna hurt you." He could see it in his mind, though. Holding onto him, over him--

"Gonna walk you right through it." he promised, swallowing, his thoughts echoing Steve's. They were always in sync, always had been. "Bet you didn't notice that I slipped massage oil into the basket, huh?"

"I didn't until we got to the checkout. I thought that...maybe it was...for your arm or something."

He chuckled, "Stark'd kill me if I put that stuff on my arm." Bucky stood reluctantly, "I'll grab it, we're taking this to the bedroom." he pulled Steve up and was back with the little tub in seconds, hand on Steve's waist as they walked.

Steve followed him, watching. Dear fucking Christ, this was really going to happen, wasn't it?

Bucky dropped the tub on the bed and turned, kissing Steve hard, pulling them together. First step, stop Steve overthinking it. He pressed one hand against the front of his trousers. Buck watched his eyes flinch, watched Steve kiss back, fingers curling into his side. "Trust me." he breathed, deepening the kiss. Bucky rubbed his cock firmly through his jeans and then reached to start undressing them both.

He smiled at the little giraffes on Steve's shirt, pointing them out to him. Steve started a little. "I didn't notice them."

"Aw, you aint gotta make excuses. You're a sucker for small animals."

"Natasha gave it to me."

Bucky barked out a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll put the shirt inside out so that the giraffes won't see what I'm about to do to you."

 

 

Soon they were naked and bare, sunlight warming them in the late afternoon. Steve looked down. Unlike the dimness last night--he could really see everything now. He gently touched Buck's length, wrapping fingers around.

"Yeah, like that..." Bucky moaned, rocking forward into him. "Ah Steve." he touched back, firm but gentle, eyes greedily soaking in every inch of Steve.

"Like...." He gently pushed forward, leaning Buck back onto the sheets. He stroked him, studying his face while he did so. Watching all the nuances of emotion and pleasure.

Bucky reached up, gripping Steve's shoulder as he gasped and rolled his hips upwards, pushing his cock into Steve's hand needily. His eyelids fell to half mast, tongue dabbing at his reddened lips. Steve's breathing stilted at the heat in his eyes. He worked his arm, stroking faster, harder.

"Ah Christ!" Buck blasphemed, probably making their childhood pastor perform somersaults in his grave. "Steve, Steve... you... ah!" he put his hand over Steve's, and grabbed his head with the metal one, holding on probably a little too tight for comfort. "You're gonna make me--"

"Come," he said. "Make you come," he finished. "Come...do it...I want you to..."

The fact it was _Steve_ saying those words made lust flash hot through him, an inferno that caused him to jerk up once more, coming all over Steve's hand. "Y'damn punk... shit, wow."

Steve swallowed hard, once again--the intensity dissipating from his eyes. Normal, too-shy Steve again. "...y'okay?" He asked quietly.

"Steve," he looked up at him, "Come on..." he groaned, fingers squeezing his. "Any reason to believe I'm not?" he lounged back, naked and sated, flushed pink with exertion.

"Yeah--I mean, no. I mean. Right." He said, still smiling, going up into a grin. A little embarrassed but not ashamed anymore. "Yeah." He leaned down to kiss him.

"You bet your ass, yeah." he grinned, leaning up to meet the kiss. Bucky looped his metal arm around Steve's neck, his other hand questing down for Steve's cock. "Now, take down the walls, the armor, Steve." Steve groaned softly. And maybe he really could. Bucky was here to stay. The walls could come down a bit. His hips pistoned slowly in Buck's grip. "Damn Stevie. Dames didn't know what they were missing, still don't," he murmured, lips kissing Steve's ear. "Never get the best part about you." He kissed him hard, sliding metal fingers carefully onto his cock.

"I'll admit--after the Serum...I...I didn't know how to act with them at all. They're a lot more aggressive than my mother led me to believe." It was a nod to his control that he didn't jerk--the cold metal on him felt a lot better than he thought it would.

"Well, can't blame them, you are a..." he tried to think of the words, "like some kind of Adonis, whatever they call it." he chuckled.

"Oh God--don't say stuff like that," Steve managed, shaking his head. "An Adonis, really?" He laughed.

Bucky didn't take it back. "People are a whole lot less proper than they'd like you to believe, even back then. Still, they didn't know the best part of ya, I stand by it."

"What is the best part, Buck? It is the flashy outfit? I know you like the outfit."

"Always admired the tights." he laughed, "Naw... it's you Steve, you. Just... wouldn't make a difference to me if you were still small and skinny, didn't matter to me, wasn't what was important."

"Hey, those are leather. Not tights." He blinked a little. "What _was_ important?"

"You. Look, I... looks weren't what I..." he started to fumble with his words, flushing suddenly himself, "Steve. You're so damn... you. Shit, I'm not good at this. You're just, brave and feisty and smart, smarter than me, I always felt like I was better around you. Being around you made me a better guy. You made me laugh, you make me want to try and--" he shuddered, and for the first time, breaking eye contact, "I love you."

Steve stared at him. He could not think of words. This was Buck talking. This...he swallowed hard. "Damn, Buck...." And he leaned in to cover his mouth again.

"Y-yeah..." he said, shy in a way Bucky never had been but he wasn't... exactly Bucky Barnes anymore. He was still that man trying to figure himself out in many ways. Forging the identity between the old and the new, there was just one thing he did know. "Still remember that." he murmured, embarrassed but not ashamed. He got the lid off the tub and coated his fingers, "Gonna have to switch hands here." he said.

Steve was able to stop himself from the slow, thorough thrust, stilling in Bucky's grip. He kept watching his eyes, glancing up at the oil and back down. "Okay...you're sure it's not gonna hurt you..."

"Eyes on me, soldier," Buck answered, that cocky little half-grin back in place.

Steve looked up automatically at that, meeting his face. "What should I do...?"

Bucky licked his lips, "Kiss me." he quested downwards with his fingers between his own legs.

He leaned in, capturing his mouth. Steve pulled back after only a moment, watching Buck's progress. It was...strange and a little weird. But Bucky did not seem to mind the....ah....penetration. Steve felt his ears starting to burn again, watching Buck's flesh fingers. "The metal arm, Buck....can you...I mean...does it have...heat sensors? Or...some way to process...heat? Cold? Sensation?"

"Pressure and temperature," he informed him, "Pretty sweet, better input than the old arm."

"Guess that's Stark for you...head so far up his own ass that he wanted to make sure his suit could feel everything."

He let out a bark of laughter. "I like when you're a smartass."

Steve smiled. "Don't tell anyone. It's a secret." He found his eyes drawn down again, watching...

"Enjoying the show, Cap?" Bucky said with a playful grin. He licked his lips, it felt... yeah.

Steve started a little. "Is it weird that I--er. I mean. You know. I." He cut himself off and just laughed softly. "It's...strange but it doesn't seem...painful."

"Yeah it's weird," he cocked a grin, "Wanna help me out?" Bucky's tone was careful, not wanting to seem like he pushing.

He looked at him, carefully. "If...you're sure. I mean...what should I...do?"

"Slick up your fingers." he told him, metal fingers sliding over Steve's hip. "Put 'em in me, just a couple." he licked his lips again.

The casualness that Bucky said that made Steve's breath rush out of his lungs. He picked up the pot of oil and smeared some of the stuff on his fingers. He looked at Bucky and then back down, tensing as he inserted one finger. He kept looking back up at him--checking his reactions.

"Ah Steve..." he groaned, head tilted back. Bucky let out a low gasp, his toes curled, "Like that, yeah."

He nodded, watching him. He slowly inserted a second--and then he could really feel him. Heat, slowly loosening muscle and, "....God, I can...feel your heartbeat...." he said quietly.

Bucky swallowed thickly, something about that comment shouldn't have hit so hotly but it did. His dick was so damn hard he didn't know if he could stand it, "Imagine when it's your cock in there..." he said huskily, biting at Steve's throat.

 _That_ sent a shock right down into his gut. He shuddered, just at the thought. Suddenly really considering how that would feel. He breathed, open-mouthed. He tried to speak and couldn't. He nodded a little, turning his head to kiss him.  
Bucky kissed him back, rocking his hips suddenly, filled with daring and hunger. His tongue thrust hard into Steve's mouth, "Keep going." he shuddered, "Another one."

"All right, yeah....." He added, slid his ring finger, slowly rotating, stretching.

"Good work." he licked his lips, breathing hitching as he did. Bucky ran metal fingers through Steve's hair. The fingers were so smooth, so well made they didn't get caught on the strands. "S'good."

He added his pinkie. "It's so strange...but...smooth, I guess."

"Oh fuck, Steve... I think, I think you better fuck me now." he gasped. He just said it so fucking innocently, no idea the effect his words had.

Steve looked at him. "uh--oh. Okay. Yeah." He withdrew his fingers carefully. "I should put...some on me, right?" he said, taking up some in his fingers and trying not to flinch too much when he smeared it on himself. Leaning over his friend again, he looked at his face--to be absolutely sure that Bucky wanted him to do this. "You--you gotta say something if I hurt you. No matter what, Buck. Okay?"

Bucky nodded, shuddering and spreading his legs further. "Yeah, yeah. I swear." he said, brushing it aside, leaning up and kissing him again desperately.

Steve shuddered into that kiss and looked down, trying to be careful. The push was strange--smooth like marble--and Bucky accepted around him and Steve startled at the feeling. He screwed his eyes shut, slowly, slowly in.

"Steve..." Bucky groaned, oh fuck this was weird and good and so good and yeah it hurt just a little but that was fading already (thank you healing factor), "Oh damn..."

Steve's arms shook, straining. "B-Buck..." He was gripping into self-control. He opened his eyes to look at Buck's face to gauge if he was in pain or not. "Oh..." It felt...so much, so much everywhere.

"I'm good, I'm good... oh damn. Steve." Bucky kissed him, his eyes wide as both hands went to Steve's shoulders. "I'm good. Christ you feel good."

Steve leaned on one elbow so he could lift his other hand. He touched Buck's face, grabbing into his hair. Sunk in complete and full and hot. He twitched inside of him and that startled him into a moan. His hips canted in a jerk, sensation shocking up his spine. "God--Buck--ah--"

"Get moving, Steve," he managed, lips working everywhere he could reach. It felt good, good, like he hadn't imagined. Steve in him, around him. He felt hot and wanted and possessed in the good way, the only way that should be.

Breath in his ear--heavy, deep--he couldn't speak. He started to move. Deep, slow, trying to be mindful of Bucky. But he could not help it eventually--increasing his pace.

Bucky moaned, guttural, his hips lifting and pushing back. He hung on tight, maybe too tight, leaving bruises to blossom over Steve's skin. "Yeah!"

"Ah!" he cried out, gasping for air. His hands went to Buck's hips, helping him move, holding him in the air at that angle.

There was a moment of instinctual concern he'd probably never be able to help when he heard Steve gasping for breath, "Steve, Steve..." he pushed it down, focused on the moment. "бог, пожалуйста!"

Steve snapped his hips--the Russian almost made him stumble. He stopped, panting, staring at him. "B-Buck?" he asked.

"пожалуйста -- please, please..." he remembered, Steve didn't talk Russian, English. "Hand on my dick, do it."

Steve swallow and then did as directed, stroking him as he picked up the rhythm again.

Bucky rolled his hips up, seeing stars at the twin assaults of sensation. He came with a curse, muscles squeezing down around Steve's cock.

His whole body jerked. The bed scrapped along the floor. He groaned loud. " _Hah_ \--!" and came hard inside of him. He felt dizzy, like he hadn't since he was a boy, gasping again as he sunk down.

"Jesus!" he swore, panting hard, "God damn, Steve you -- Steve? Steve, you okay?" his hands ran over Steve's back, gently rubbing.

Steve looked at him. "Huh--oh--yeah--I--yeah. Sorry. Just the adrenaline and rush of blood...are you okay?"

"I'm good... that was a good deal." He smiled sloppily, "Fella could get used to it."

"Deal?" Steve said stupidly. He smiled, what did it matter, after all. He kissed him. "Yeah. Yeah....we could get used to it."

"You, me. Good deal." he stroked Steve's face gently with his real hand. "Make your fanclub jealous."

"My fanclub? Oh yeah, who's that?"

"Oh my God, Steve, the internet! All of the internet!" he chuckled, "Come on, you make a tweet and about a million people like it."

"That's why I don't Tweet. I think Stark does that." He grinned, nosing at his temple

"You should probably stop him, he's feeding the fetish fuel, you know." he chuckled lazily.

"What's the fetish?" he asked, easing onto his side, smiling.

"Super hot super soldier. Some of them are kind of suggestive, you should take a look sometime." Bucky shuddered and then curled into him.

"I take it you spend a lot of time on the internet?" He pulled the blanket over them, kissed him.

"Helps to catch up on things. You won't believe how many cat videos there are." he kissed back, drawing lazy circles on Steve's chest with his hand.

"Maybe we can watch a few tomorrow." He put a strong arm over him, pulling him in to his warmth.

Bucky nodded, yawning and pressing his face to Steve's neck. "You're like a furnace, it's nice."

"Well, you can get used to that too, then."

"Bet your sweet ass." Bucky closed his eyes. He was out in no time.

Steve was awake only a little after, watching him, trying to ponder the immensity of this change. And yet, finding that it didn't bother him that much.


	3. You Know Me

Steve had always been a doer. Or, rather, he had always tried. His body had never matched his spirit, his big dumb heart. It had tormented him in his teens. He had tried so hard, done everything right--but nothing worked. He never got stronger. His mother died-- _choking up on blood, splattering on her pale face, lips_ \--he had worked hard in school---when he could manage to be at school for long enough stretches for anything to set in his brain. He was good at drawing. As someone who got beat up a lot, who couldn't seem to help but have the temper and pride of a big man in such a sickly body, he spent most of his time alone. Except for Bucky, of course. Losing Bucky the first time was horror.

Seeing Bucky again on that bridge as the Winter Soldier...was like a rug being pulled under his feet. Then the blank face, no recognition at their fight on the hellicarrier.

And then that moment--Bucky had been a sniper. His aim was amazing--he fired two, three times? And missed twice. How could that be anything but deliberate? Maybe it was his subconscious. Steve knew-- _knew_ it--that Bucky knew him, somewhere inside. And that final moment together. Steve's earnest goodness and tenacity and persistence just seemed to fade. He couldn't fight Bucky. He couldn't. Not him. Never him.

When he woke up in the hospital, and learning that someone-- _Bucky?_ \--had pulled him from the river. And that Buck had disappeared. It was like losing him all over again.

 

There were moments between himself and Fury, in particular. He respected Fury's leadership, of course, but his priorities were set and he had always been stubborn. Fury did not want to waste the time and resources hunting down an unstable psychopath--

To which Steve's face became terrible, a mask of anger. He had tensed to fight--

"Steve," Natasha said, beside him. She hadn't moved yet but he could sense the shift in her, the tension. "I'm sure Fury would be fine just letting you and Sam go. How about that?"

"How about I go by myself."

"Nope, not happening. Bad idea. I'm coming," Sam informed him. "Tch--not like we want you all there anyway."

"Oh yeah? You and Steve best friends forever," Natasha asked.

"You jealous--maybe you keep trying to set him up because you just can't admit that you want him."

Natasha looked bemused. "Steve, is Sam your pimp?"

Steve couldn't help a tiny smile. He shook his head and walked away.

 

And five months later, when they found Bucky--too skinny, like a cornered and feral dog, some memories back, some imagined, some that weren't his at all, others from the Soldier--he was so compromised, he went to Bucky. Reckless, careless, just wanting to reach his friend and scoop him up and protect him like Bucky had once protected Steve. As angry as he'd been, he was lucky Natasha was with them. She was the one who spirited between them.

"Out of the way, Natasha."

"Not happening, Cap. Not until we know which one." She had her pistols pointed at Bucky.

"Dammit, Nat--stop it! Put your guns down!" The shield made a _shhhonk_ as it suddenly appeared on his arm, tensing.

"Sam. Hawkeye."

Sam had a gun as well, he kept it pointed at the ground but was obvious about his intentions. A wrong move from the Winter Soldier and this was gonna be a short story. Hawkeye had his bow, face stern, as usual. They approached Bucky from two directions, left and right, while Natasha stood in front of him.

Bucky had looked at them, risen, baring his teeth. He drew one of his knives.

"No--no, goddammit!" Steve couldn't see straight--he raised his shield, prepared to bash all three of them out of the way. Get those guns away from Bucky--don't point guns at Bucky _stoppointinggunsatmyfriend!_ \--

But then Bruce grabbed him, yanked him back. Big and green, Hulk approached the Winter Soldier.

"No!" Steve cried out, starting forward again.

"Dammit Steve, stop it!" Natasha commanded, pointing one of her pistols at him.

 _That_ caught Buck's attention instantly. He tensed, bristling up like dog, preparing to attack. Hulk grabbed him up, held him in his massive arms, even as he struggled, fighting, unable to do a damn thing.

And then he went still, silent as a rag doll.

Steve ran passed Natasha, who lowered her gun, finally. Steve went to him. "Put him down! Down!" He demanded. And Hulk obeyed, quiet, considering.

He knelt in front of Buck. "Please--Bucky. I'm sorry. Look at me."

And those grey-blue eyes came up to meet his and said, "You don't use the sense your ma gave you."

Steve blinked but then he just grabbed him up and hugged him--

"We have to run!"

What--wait--that didn't seem right?

Bucky looked confused. "What? Why?"

"They're coming! We have to run! I won't let them take you again!"

But the eyes that stared back at him weren't Bucky, they were the cold calculating eyes of the Soldier.

"No--no--not now. No, you have to--"

Everyone else was gone. Only the knives mattered, sunken deep into his gut and chest. He stared at Bucky--no, the Soldier. "Bucky...don't do this..."

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

And then, from nowhere. Rage. Rage thundered in on Steve. He jumped on the Soldier. "Give him back!" His fist rose and fell, over and over and over. Ripping out bone and hair and an eye. Ripping off flesh and leather and Kevlar--Bucky was suddenly naked beneath him. Blood smeared all over his face as Steve tore his ribs apart. Up to his elbows in blood and entrails--

And then suddenly pulled back. The Soldier was dead. "No...no--"

 

And then, "Bucky!" He yelled, jumping, rolling out of bed, smacking his face into the nightstand and hitting the floor.

Bucky woke up with a snap at the yell. His eyes blank, battle-ready and groping for a gun -- a knife, under the pillow. There wasn't one. Why wasn't there one?! Then--"Steve?" he blinked. "Steve!" Bucky crawled to the edge of the bed and then off it, sliding onto the floor next to his friend. "Hey, hey!" he put his arms on Steve's shoulders.

He started, grabbing onto him, hands gliding over him--checking for injuries. "Are you okay? Are you...you're....everything's....okay?" He asked, eyes wavering on the edge of panic.

Bucky stared at him for a moment, then enveloped Steve in his arms, holding onto his bigger, broader friend like it was still the early forties and he was the small one. "It was a nightmare, Steve, a nightmare. I'm here, see, all in one piece and remembering you."

Steve hugged him back, holding him, rocking gently back and forth. Like his mother with her rosary beads, during one of his bouts with Scarlet Fever or pneumonia.

 

They had now been living in Steve's apartment for a month. Getting used to each other--to living with just each other. No one else around as a buffer. So far, they were doing well. If things got to be too intense, too much--they could take it down a notch. Steve would go up to Bucky and run his fingers through his dark hair. And then they both could relax.

"Shhh, I got ya. I got you, Steve." he murmured, shaking a little. "I'm here." Bucky kissed his forehead, "I ain't going nowhere, I promise."

Steve drug his fingers through Buck's hair, making it stick up everywhere. "I...Buck...I...." he shook his head. Hugged him. "Do you dream about being the Winter Soldier?"

There was a moment of quiet. "... yeah." Bucky licked his suddenly dry lips. "Most every night. Everything I can't seem to access during the day likes to come at me in my sleep, I guess. I remember all the shit he -- I did."

"He did," Steve corrected. "He isn't you."

"Isn't he?" Bucky said, pulling back a little. "Me, my body, my hands." He stared at the metal one for a moment. Christ, this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have now, or ever really. "I --- fuck, Steve. What happened, what did you dream?"

"NO! He isn't you! You're not like---a fuckin mask that he puts on."

Bucky flinched, he actually flinched, like a fucking weakling. "I don't want to talk about it, Steve. Not fucking now." he shook his head. "Just don't! I can't just cut it off like a neat little package when he's in my head every God damn day!" his hands withdrew from Steve. "I'm not doing this."

Steve sat up. "Buck...I...I--I just. You aren't him. Yeah--he's not you either. You've changed. I mean, so have I. But..."

Bucky looked away from him, dumb handsome big Steve with his golden smile and impossible blue eyes. "Yeah... I'm not about to go out and murder anyone now, right. Those memories are mine though, same as everything before and everything since. Me an' him, we're always going to be stuck together. I am him, not having choice doesn't make that any less."

"But that's not who you are inside."

"Your nightmare was about him, wasn't it? That's what all this is about. Some fucked up thing in your dream..." he swallowed thickly. "No, no I'm not. I'm not some mindless machine shaped like a person anymore."

Steve flinched back this time. "...I....I'm sorry. Yes, it was about him...." He got up, starting to change clothes silently.

"Steve..." Bucky pulled himself up, "Christ, I need a shower." He looked at his friend, "I... I'll be out in a bit." he headed to the bathroom, turning the water on as hot as he could take it.

 

Steve left. He went to run. Run and run and run like he never could as a boy, as a young man. Run and run and run and bury and bury and run again. Peggy and the Commandoes, Bucky Barnes and Captain America...

Run and run and run and run and run.

 

Bucky had his shower and came out with skin bright pink and a slightly lost expression on his face. He made a pot of coffee and sat, holding the cup between his hands, drinking and reflecting and waiting for Steve to come back. When he finally came home, he hesitated before entering. His brain already scanning through scenarios of him walking in and Bucky having fled. He went inside.

Bucky was there, an empty mug before him, not really looking at or doing anything. "Hey," he murmured. "Good run?"

"Yeh..." he said, watching him.

"... not a good morning, huh?" he sighed. "Think the coffee's cold, I'll make more."

"You don't have to..." He looked away. "Maybe we...jumped in too fast...."

"Don't." Bucky's shoulders tensed as he stood up, "Don't say that." He emptied the old pot and started a new one. "I don't regret a damn thing."

"Maybe just...we don't understand each other--hell, ourselves, and how we've changed...."

Bucky bristled, putting the pot down with a bang. "The hell are you talking about?"

"I...I just...." Steve backed up a step. "Maybe I don't understand you like I'd hoped...maybe I was too caught up in having you back..."

Bucky groaned and turned around, stalking over to Steve. He seized him by his shirt, "Don't do this, don't start treating me with kid gloves again. We're past that, God Steve, I just... I just need you to accept me as I am now."

"I do! I mean--I'm not trying to treat you with kid gloves--I am just trying to be sure that....this is, I dunno--best or something."

"Why isn't it?" Bucky said, his eyes were wide and searching Steve's face. "Come on, it's been good, it's been good. You just had one bad dream, Steve."

"I know..." he could see it, Bucky naked with Steve digging out his ribs, digging, searching for Bucky inside the Winter Soldier.

"Steve..." he pulled him closer, pressing their heads together. "Please, I don't want this to end. I'm not letting it end, this is what I want. So long as you want it too I'm in for the long haul."

He nodded. "Me too...I'm sorry...I--let it get to me."

"Just proving how much you need me, Rogers," Bucky said softly. "God knows how you managed without me when you were out of the ice."

Steve looked down. "....ha, it was...it was a mess, pretty much."

"Yeah... saw the footage of the alien attack. That was some real craziness there." his fingers brushed over Steve's temple.

"The world has just gotten...exponentially weirder, I suppose."

"You started it." he said, lips quirking. "Well... I guess that Erskine guy started it." Bucky leaned in and kissed him. "Fellas like us paved the way for Gods and aliens, men in metal suits."

He nudged back. "I wonder if that was good or bad..."

"Well, we're here now, for all that it took some fucked up steps along the way." he swallowed thickly. "And we're here together. Doesn't matter if it was for the best or not, I'm glad we got to this point."

"I killed you, in that dream." He said suddenly. "I tore you apart, ripping you open, looking for Bucky inside of the Winter Soldier."

Bucky stared at him for a moment, his eyes unfocused and his breath sharp in his chest. "Ah, Steve," he laughed without humour, "you ever dreamed that sort of thing before?"

"Yeah---just not usually to that extent."

"... I kill you too, sometimes. That last order, that last mission they gave me. It beats around in my head, sometimes I get flashes, just... you don't know all the ways I can kill someone, Steve. Get shit scared of myself. That one day I'll wake up and my hands'll be around your throat."

Steve nodded a little. He grabbed Buck's head and hugged him, patting his back, rubbing warm circles into the skin.

"We're both fucked in the head, I guess. Wish it was so easy, you could just dig the Bucky out of the Soldier." he carried on, leaning into the contact. "There's still so much buried in my head I don't know."

"We'll figure it out. You won't be alone--I'm gonna help you like you helped me."

Bucky nodded, "I know, I know. And I'm going to have your back, the way I always did. You hear me? The next time some trouble comes knocking I want to be there covering your ass."

"Same. And now we're close to the same strength so there won't be the constant fluctuation."

"I got your word on that then." He smiled finally, genuinely. "No charging off without me."

"Tch--who else could I depend on?"

"I am definitely your best bet. Amnesiac ex-assassins are the in-backup for the super soldier crowd." He grinned, kissing Steve again. "Sweaty super soldier crowd." he amended.

He laughed. "Guess I better go shower, eh?"

"You gonna need any help? Reach those spots on your back?" Bucky asked him, tongue dabbing at his lips.

Steve's eyes softened. "....yeah...I think I will."

"Alright then, best hit those showers, Captain," he said, and smacked Steve's ass with a grin. "Lead the way."

Steve swatted at him. "Geez." He headed into the bathroom, peeling off his workout clothes to jump in.

"You love it and me." he smiled, following him and stripping off quite happily despite already having had one shower today.

Steve grabbed soap, washing his hair and watching Bucky step in with him. Steamy from the heat, arm glistening in the water, Steve's eyes quietly examined him.

The water made his dark hair longer than it already was, sticking to his shoulders. Bucky pressed in close to Steve, his head nudged against one impossibly broad shoulder with a contented sigh while the warm arm slipped around his waist. It brought them snug and close, fitting against each other. He closed his eyes, just allowing the feeling, the sensation, the warmth, to process. Bucky sighed softly, his face buried against Steve's warm skin, breathing him in and closing his eyes against the flow of the water. He could do this forever. Sometimes he felt that way at least, the way Steve's presence tethered him together, temporarily smoothed over crack and fracture in his mind. Sometimes he thought he could just forget everything that had happened, they could still be two boys from Brooklyn.

Except that Steve was giant hunk of a guy now but Bucky was willing to let some things pass.

Steve lifted his soapy hands, gently smoothing over Buck's skin. His shoulders, arms and back, massaging his head.

"Steve," he mumbled. "Nice when you do that." Bucky kissed his shoulder.

He nodded a little. "Good..." he murmured. He used his fingernails lightly, massaging his skull and coaxing any tangles out.

At that Bucky rolled his shoulders, the metal one clicking, and let out a sound that was halfway between a purr and moan. "Mmmm..." his thumbs rubbed circles into Steve's hips.

It was slow, warm, rubbing his skull, massaging the kinks out of his brain, nosing at Bucky's temple.

"Oh God, Steve... where'd ya learn this..." he shuddered, an actual full body shuder. His cock was half-hard against Steve's leg.

He smiled a little. "Just know what feels good, I guess." He kissed his damp temple.

"Yeah, I'll say." He swallowed and kissed up to Steve's neck, tongue darting out to lap water from his skin as his hips swayed forwards.

Steve stuttered in a breath, tilting his head, feeling Buck move against him. "Buck...." he murmured, soft and low.

Higher, along his jaw, then finally claiming his mouth hungrily. Their cocks rubbed together as Bucky moved himself. Steve shuddered, kissing back, felt himself twitch, moving in against him.

"Shit..." Bucky murmured, then thrust his tongue into Steve's mouth. "Need you, need you..." Another moan and he was past talking, using his hands on Steve's hips to grind them together. It wasn't elegant or particularly well thought out, it did work though, giving the quick access to friction that Bucky wanted. Steve grunted softly, letting Bucky guide him how he wanted. Giving--friction, warmth, connection, heat.

"Fuck, fuck..." he whispered, harder, faster, then a warm hand wrapped around them both, jerking them off together and Bucky came hard and gasping.

Steve pinned him against the wall of the shower. "God, you smell good," he murmured.

Bucky choked, "Steve, you damn... oh God... tell me..."

He nosed his jawline, his throat. "You smell like...woodsmoke, pine, got this spicy sort of...scent to your skin. Cause you gotta be part-Italian. You smell warm...good...in the war, when I found you again, we shared a tent and we slept side-by-side and even then, dirty and tired and cold and a mess...you smelled good..."

Bucky tried to think about it, remember it but it was hazy, confused. "I don't remember that. Sounds true though." He smirked.

Steve tensed a little. He had never admitted that to anyone. Then he smiled. "It's all right if you don't. I kind of don't want to think of myself being all creepy and hovering over you while you slept."

"You did though?" Bucky laughed a little, cupping the back of Steve's head.

"....I was worried about you. A lot. My own procedure was painful--but at least government sanctioned. But when I found you in that Hydra base...I hear it sometimes. I'll be dreaming---I'm walking down these long, dark hallways. I can hear...gunfire...screaming...death--and then I can hear you like I did then. You say your rank, your name, your serial number. Over and over and over again. It echoes everywhere. But I can never find you...." He smiled softly. "I didn't realize it then, of course--but after I woke up, they told me what your serial number was--and the Smithsonian confirmed it. That you were drafted. And you told me you enlisted."

Bucky looked at him, smile slipping away. "I remember that...." he said softly, looking aside. ".....I....was ashamed that I didn't really want to go," he admitted. "You had tried so many times...and been rejected. I couldn't tell you that--"

"It's all right, Bucky. I was kinda naive back then, you know."

Bucky smile, chuckling. "Yeah, I know. You wouldn't have known a come-on from an apple pie."

"Didn't wheat give me hives?"

"No," Bucky said, laughing. "It didn't, you idiot. I would know."

"How would you know?"

"Cause I cooked for you after Sarah passed." Bucky looked thoughtful. "Those might be times that even your photographic memory might not know. When you were bedridden or sick--you liked bread. You'd puke if I gave you corn though."

"Corn?"

"Yeah, weird, right?"

"Well, I guess I didn't need to know about come-ons anyway."

"Not until after the procedure. I thought I was hallucinating when you picked me up."

"Yeah--I didn't even consider it. Got me in trouble sometimes. Plus...well, there was Peggy then...." He looked down, away, to the shower door.

"Hell of a dame." Bucky said softly, rubbing the back of Steve's neck. "Wouldn't have begrudged her you."

"She was...the first person who ever...paid attention to me. Like that, I mean..."

"Heh, invulnerable to the old Barnes charm too." he kissed Steve softly. "You always knew how to pick a winner."

"You were jealous, I remember. Hahaha, you tried your usual sweettalk and she didn't even look at you." He nosed at him.

"Pretty funny in hindsight." he chuckled. "Didn't respect a dame half so much until I met Natalia."

"She's really something, yeah?" he said.

"She sure is. Shoulda seen her when they first put us together, little thing, thin as a whipcord and so fast. She was already dangerous. When they put her with me so I could train her....ha, positively deadly." his voice drifted off, that way it did when he was reciting memories.

"I figured you two had hooked up at some point. Just the way she acts around you..."

"Paris... we killed... somebody. And then, well," he hesitated, licking his lips. "They didn't like it. Hydra. When they found out. The asset wasn't supposed to have feelings, desires. They burned them right out of his skull, same as everything else, no more working with the Widow after that."

Steve looked away. "Sorry," he murmured. He stepped back a little, turning to rinse his hair in the spray.

 _Don't say fucking sorry!_ Steve, Steve apologizing for things that weren't his fault, apologizing for Bucky's messed up life after the train. It drove him crazy and stung him with guilt at the same time. He wanted to say it but the memory was rising up now, sweeping him up as it liberated itself from the fog.

 

_They woke him up, dressed him, equipped him._

_This is your partner, they said, introducing him to a to a girl who could't be more than seventeen. It was the second time he'd met Natasha only he didn't remember it. She remembered though, in hindsight he could see it in her eyes but then he only nodded in simple acknowledgement._

_A foreign dignitary at a party. The Widow seduced him out while the Soldier took care of the guards, stuffing them into closets with their throats slit. They wanted it messy._

_When Natasha brought the man up to the empty floor they made it messy together._

_Mission done, return to safehouse and await extraction._

_Except the Widow had smiled, smiled at him. "Yasha." she said, her hand cupping his face, drawing his mouth down to her red red lips as they stood in red and were coated in it. The Soldier felt unexpected heat blossom in his cold veins._

_They went back to the safehouse and did not sit quietly until the extraction came. "Don't tell." she told him, "Don't tell them, Yasha."_

_He didn't tell them but they found out anyway. They always found out._

 

Bucky blinked slowly, hand rising to his head. He hoped he hadn't disappeared into his head for too long, it sometimes scared Steve.

"You're remembering it, aren't you?" Steve asked quietly.

"... yeah." he muttered, "It doesn't matter. It happens. It's good that I remember at least."

Steve looked down at the water, flowing and running and scampering down the drain. Like memories, really. "Tell me about it," he requested. "About that night with Natasha."

Bucky tongued his mouth. "... let's get out of the shower. I'll tell you, let's get out of here though." he pulled away, stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying himself off roughly for the second time that morning. He felt his scars itch when the fabric passed over them before he pulled his shit -- Steve's shirt -- and sweatpants back on.

Steve dressed. He did not look upset at all. Curious, interested, wanting to see into this part of Bucky's life--of which he had no concept, no memory, no frame of reference. He had spent so long separating the Winter Soldier and Bucky....

Maybe he...should try and get to know the Soldier too....

 

Bucky led the way into the kitchen and followed up on his earlier notion to make a fresh pot of coffee. He took it black and straight and set Steve a cup of his preference down as well before taking a seat. He cupped his hands around the hot drink, clearly taking his time to try and sort through his muddled thoughts.

"It was... after Howard... I think a few years after. The KGB -- the Red Room didn't die so neatly when the Soviet Union did, guess they didn't want to acknowledge that the party was over." he snorted. "Still let me masquerade as an Eastern European agent anyway. They woke me up because some dignitary was attending a political party in Paris, I don't know what he did for Hydra to want him dead, I never asked. Questions not related to the success of the mission were bad. They pointed me and I killed, that was all. This time though they introduced me to her, they said 'this is your partner'. Wasn't the first time I ever worked with someone and hell, what did I remember anyway. She looked at me though, I think I thought she was scared just for a second, she was amazing at the poker face even then. But I saw.

"She was the distraction, the lure while I took care of the security. She went to the party all dolled up, all I remember is her hair, how bright it was. It wasn't much of a challenge to kill them, seven men, neat kills, quick kills before they could be noticed. Stashed the bodies anywhere it would take a while to be found. No half-measures. Natalia brought him upstairs and I waited. Make it messy, they said, make a message. To scare off anyone from doing what it was he was doing. We made it messy, we... we're good at what we do. He died and we were just... just standing there. We were supposed to leave immediately, find the safehouse, extraction team would be there within two hours." Bucky squeezed the mug, "There was red on everything and her hair, her hair and her mouth... lipstick, I don't know. She pulled off the mask and kissed me, called me Yasha and I didn't understand but she... it woke something up in me. Not as good as you did but close. Right there on the bed with a God damn corpse nearby." he laughed bitterly, "And blood on our hands. We were late going back, don't tell anyway, don't report that, she told me. I listened to her, I didn't say a word." Bucky swallowed thickly. "It didn't matter in the end. But I remember that night now, it was the only time I actually... felt alive, in decades. Then of course they wiped it, they took it away. Natalia escaped them though, later, she escaped -- then I shot her later, through her, not a blink. If she'd known she would have told you, you know. She'd have told you she'd known me."

"Was she what you expected? Thorough? Brutality--even when doing...that."

Bucky blinked, he looked up and met Steve's eyes, it wasn't what he'd expected Steve to say. "I... yeah. Well, can't say I expected anything back then but Nat is... Nat."

"What about you? Brutality and all that."

"Why, are you... you ain't... disturbed by that?"

"No, Buck....cause we...we're....normal people can't deal with our strength..."

"... yeah I liked it, like it. You know when you pinned me down that first night --" he swallowed audibly. "Natasha she... shoved me down and ha, if it weren't for you she'd be the dame for me. No kid gloves."

He nodded. "I understand....strength and...everything else. And then....it wasn't you...but her. I mean....I dunno what I mean. But I do understand. When you can only do so much....and then folks try to stop you....I know that's not what this is about exactly--but..."

"Eloquent, Rogers." he smiled, a slight tugging upwards of his lips. Bucky pushed the still full cup away and reached for Steve's hand. "Guess we really are made for each other now."

"I guess...deep down..." and Steve's eyes had to break contact, embarrassed by what he was about to say, "...domination is...sometimes a good thing. But not the forced kind...like Hydra did to you....but the kind you, uh..." he swallowed. "The kind that you like....that you want..."

Bucky's fingers tightened on Steve's hand, a shiver went through. "Kind you can trust." he said quietly. "Like I can trust you."

"Yeah....I can trust you not to actually hurt me. And vice versus."

"Yeah." he looked at their hands. "Yeah. Never." Never again, never again.

"Yeah---don't worry. It's okay, Buck. It's all right."

He nodded slowly. "So... now we're clear on that..." he looked up at Steve. "Any other questions for me? Best get 'em in while I'm being talkative."

"What was it _like_ sleeping with Natasha? She seems like the whips and chains type."

Bucky choked, literally choked on air. He looked at Steve with wide eyes and then started to laugh, "Steve Rogers! What would your mother say!" he patted himself hurriedly on the chest. "I must be good, corrupting you so much in the space of a month. Why, you interested?"

"Actually--that was a lesson that Stark taught me. Against my better judgment. I am curious--who wouldn't be?"

Bucky snorted, "Well points to Stark." he leaned forward. "Curious as in just want to know or you'd like to try for yourself?"

 "Uhh--" the air left his lungs in a muddled rush. "Well, I--don't know the finer details...really. I...uh, well---got all embarrassed and then Pepper came in and....it was weird."

It set him off laughing again, "Oh man, Steve, and that woman's like... a tiger, she can make Stark heel." Bucky patted his hand in consolation. "You know Nat's pretty open minded, heard your guys kissed once." the gloom had shook off to the mere constant shade Bucky now carried in his eyes, replaced with mischief instead.

"Well---yeah---I mean, I was on the run." He looked down. "I mean SHIELD was trying to kill me. And then she said affection in public makes people uncomfortable--which made sense. It musta been pretty bad though. She asked about it later."

"Yeah, she told me." Bucky kept on smiling at him. "Sure she'd give you a second chance. I can vouch for you now."

Steve chuckled. "Ha--I-I dunno...I...she...wouldn't she get weirded out if we...uh....well, you know. Asked her. Things."

"Well, you know she and Clint have a 'thing' but it's... I think the term nowadays is 'open relationship'." he smiled, "She's not so easy to weird out."

Huh," he said quietly, considering it. "Well, maybe when. We've....uh. Gotten. Better? Er--not better. Uh, you're fine. You're good. You're better than..." and he seemed to realize what he was saying and his ears burned bright red. "...I just mean. You know. P-p-practice and stuff. And once I...uh, know. You know?" He looked at him.

Bucky's smile gentled, "Yeah, okay bud. You just got to say the word to me." he leaned over the table, snagging Steve's shirt to pull him forward so their lips could meet in a heated kiss. "I don't mind having you all to myself."

He nodded, smiling into the kiss as if he still couldn't quite believe it. "Uh, Buck....uh--that night. When we--er, when I...uh...." he stuttered over the wording, how to say it, "when you...asked me to...do _that_ to you. What did that....feel like?"

"You mean to fuck?" Bucky asked, smirk going into a laugh as Steve's face darkened a shade more red. "It felt... pretty intense, I guess. It was good, you in me, made me feel like... it was you, I could feel you everywhere. Felt dominated and hot, wanted."

He thought about it for a few minutes. "Huh...I guess maybe--well, the same for me, only in reverse. I mean--you know...it's....intense..." he dropped his eyes.

"Yeah..." he thumbed Steve's lips, "You wanna try it?"

Steve looked everywhere but at him for a moment. "....um...I, uh, I....do...." he managed to flick his eyes up at Bucky.

"Alright then." Bucky nodded, "We can do that." he kissed him again, "You wanna... now?"

Steve wet his lips. "Um.....well. Uh....is that all right....?"

"Swear to God, Rogers..." he started, licking his lips. Bucky didn't even bother walking round the table, he _vaulted_ over it with feline grace. "You got to stop asking that." and pulled Steve up onto his feet and back towards the bedroom.

Steve started when he did that, half-getting up and then he was yanked up by Bucky. Bucky, excited as a boy, pulling him towards the bedroom. "Habit," he answered, laughing a little, following him.

"Gonna break you of it, trust me." he said, turning so he was walking backwards, hands in Steve's shirt and kissing him. "You. Me. Fucking. I want it."

Steve flushed red again, as Bucky removed his shirt. He kicked over the nighttable--ignored it. He felt Bucky's hands on bare skin, touching the muscle in his chest.

"You are so damn sexy," he mumbled, "Damn, Steve." he kissed him harder, leaning upwards.

Steve sputtered an embarrassed laugh."I bet you say that to all the boys, eh? And girls."

Bucky laughed, "I just tell them they're pretty." he grabbed Steve's cock through his trousers.

Steve, still red-faced, but he laughed all the same--cutting it off with a choked groan when Bucky grabbed him. "Ohdamn."

"Good observation, Cap." he grinned, there was an edge of the Soldier in it, something predatory and intense. Bucky squeezed and rubbed, leading Steve back towards the bed and then turning and shoving him onto it.

He stumbled back, flopping down on the bed, a full-body shudder getting him from head to foot.

Bucky pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. His hands went to Steve's trousers, undoing them and tugging them down his hips and off. Rough, hurried, wanting. "Fuck," he grunted, taking his cock in hand.

Watching Bucky like this--intense and wanting, desiring, in control. There was something hot about it. Heated and intense. Like fighting the Soldier but not. A good power, a good control. Watching him strip down and come at him. He grunted again, reaching up and touching Bucky's chest, sliding him palm over it.

"Yeah, Stevie." he grunted, "Damn, you got a nice cock." Bucky smirked, he reached with metal fingers and searched for the vaseline again. At some point he'd have to get proper lube but for now this worked. He looked into his face and smirked again. "You _like_ this."

"Ah--I..." and then that last comment. _You like this._ Filthy almost, depraved. You...like this. He broke eyes contact, looking at Bucky's collarbone. He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" Bucky asked him, his mouth went to Steve's ear, taking the lobe in his mouth and sucking it. His hand squeezed Steve's cock.

Steve coughed on a grunt. That hot breath in his ear. He moaned softly and then louder at his hand. "I...I...."

"I want you to look at me, Steve. I want to look in your eyes when I do this." he murmured, switching hands so he could slick his flesh fingers up. Cool metal now stroked along Steve's cock.

Heat sparked through those blue eyes. Looking up, meeting Bucky's. He nodded and then almost instantly forgot--the cool metal on his cock--was so...he had to make himself look back up. Always so ashamed of his body, his pleasure, anything Steve wanted for himself, anything he desired, anything he wished for--just another fragment to be ashamed of--no matter what it was. When Peggy cruelly accused him of sleeping around like the other soldiers because a woman he didn't know kissed him--he internalized it--it was his fault. He'd somehow...caused it.

All he could think of after being pulled from the Potomac was finding Bucky. Fuck the Avengers, fuck Nick Fury, fuck them---he wanted Bucky back. And even that--he felt ashamed.

To look into Bucky's eyes, while getting something he wanted...pleasure, contact, Bucky--to look into Bucky's eyes and...take. Knowing he could take and was not expected to give up everything in return....

The intimacy of such a simple thing--the meeting of blue eyes--was enough to ramp up all the sensations in him.

 Bucky swore softly as he pressed the first finger into Steve. "Yeah, yeah, look at me like that." he whispered, "Steve." it was a moment of softness, need, "All I need." He was slow, careful. Steve was so big and strong now, so quick to recover and Bucky still wanted to care for him like the sickly little kid he had been.

Steve laid back, willing himself to relax. He watched Bucky, tensed at the intrusion. It was weird, strange...but he trusted Bucky. And he had to focus on Bucky's eyes, remember to keep them open and on him. He grit his teeth, cock rising into that metal palm.

"That's good, Steve, so good." he murmured, sliding a second finger into him. "God, you feel good."

He eyes almost flinched closed--but he managed to get them open again. "Ah..." he said shakily.

"Little more, Steve." Bucky swallowed and added a third finger, gently thrusting all three in and out. "Christ."

His eyes closed--he didn't even realize it, breathing fast and low. It was so...warm and full of...and everything

"Open your eyes, Steve. Open them. Now."

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, forcing them back open in time for Bucky to push in deeper, brushing against _something_. "Ah--!"

"Yeah, eyes on me, Steve. You can take it, you can take me now... right?" Bucky mumbled, half to himself, he reached to slick up his cock and pull Steve's muscular thighs around his hips. "Oh fuck..."

Steve reached behind him, holding onto the bedrail. His eyes unfocused, glassy, breaking contact with Bucky's.

"Fuck...Steve--eyes, Steve, do it" he said again, hand on Steve's hip, the other on his shoulder. The metal one was probably leaving bruises again. Their eyes met, burning into each other as Bucky shifted. "Oh God, Steve! Jesus Christ you feel incredible."

Steve gasped for breath. "B--" he panted and kissed him.

"Yeah." Bucky kissed him back hard, thrusting his cock slowly in and out of Steve. He felt so good, so tight, so perfect. In control, the slow thrust in, frazzled nerves, exquisite tension.

Steve breathed hard and fast, he shuddered. It was very different from what he'd imagined. That full feeling, hot and hard--it was...it was good. Really good. He moved with him, grabbing into Bucky's hair.

"Yeah, yeah, Stevie, like that..." he muttered under his breath, fucking him harder, faster, eventually, his hand curling round Steve's cock. He thrust in deeper, deeper, loving how Steve's back arched, pulling in and in and in--

Steve jerked. "Ah--ah--B-Buck if you---" a wave of heat flooded him, rolling up and up and up.

"Shut up, you can take it. Take it, come on..." he whispered, pumping Steve's cock in his fist, thrusting into him harder. "Oh, I felt that, Steve--twitch like that. Come on. You can take it." Deeper, harder, faster.

Steve twitched hard again in Bucky's hand, showing yes--just how much he could take it---how much he wanted to be _forced_ to take it. He came--but--his cock was still hard and he could feel Buck inside of him. "Fuck....."

"Shit, Steve..." Bucky gasped as he felt Steve, still hard, still... damn, that super serum. He gave in to fucking him. Rough and hard and deep--because he knew Steve could take it. He cursed when he came, panting. "God, still hard. Like me, eh, Steve. Hard..." He pulled out and flipped him onto his front. Steve let him and when Bucky grabbed his hips and pulled Steve back into him--he groaned.

"Ah--ah--Buck--" Felt Bucky push in hard, deep, fast, all the way to the hilt.

"C'mon, show me what you can take." He grunted, laying over Steve's back, kissing the side of his neck, sucking on his ear. "Show me." Fast and hard, reaching around to stroke him. His fingernails dug furrows into Steve's skin and he bit his shoulder. When Steve's arms started to shake, Bucky smirked, slowing down. Slow in, grinding, slow out, the drag of nerve endings. He stroked slower, other hand moving from bruising Steve's hip to stroking over his perineum, then massaging his balls. He could feel the shake. "Why are you holding back, Steve? Trying not to come? Why? Relax, Steve. Relax. It's just us here. Just me. C'mon." He hitched Steve's left thigh up--hearing Steve grunt as the position allowed Bucky to go deeper. Striking deep, deep, nailing against his prostate. Bucky sped up again, rougher, felt the headboard strike the wall--stroking again, feeling Steve tighten--unbearable--a rattling gasp, like a dying man, when he came.

Bucky carefully slipped free of his body, pushed him over again and slid down, down his body to wrap his mouth around Steve's cock.

He groaned again. "Ah--Bucky...Buck...ah...Buck--" intensity, to critical mass, he could only see one face. Walls all torn to hell. "You know me," he choked out.

That phrase, that God damn phrase, seared into his head.

_I knew him._

_But I knew him._

_You know me._

His mouth was full of Steve's cock as he whimpered in acknowledgement, a tremor running through him. Bucky looked up at him, eyes intent and focused even as his mouth worked until Steve came hard, eyes rolling back, shaking.

He managed to swallow it down without issue, some of the come dribbled down his chin when he pulled away. "Fuck." Bucky mumbled, going to wipe his mouth.

Steve laid back, sheened in sweat, panting.

With a soft groan Bucky flopped down over Steve's broad chest, his head resting over his heart, just... calming, listening.

Steve put a hand in Bucky's hair, heart like a thudding drum. Slowly quieting, calming, slowly, slowly....

"Mm..." he sighed softly. "You said that... you liked it."

Steve blinked and looked down at Bucky's hair. "Liked...that? Er--I...yeah. I did."

"No... I know you..." he murmured, nuzzling into his chest. "Glad you liked it, Stevie."

"What?" Steve asked, confused. He pulled his chin back to look at him.

"I mean..." Bucky tried to sort through his muddled thoughts. "I like it, when you say that."

"When I say that I know you and you know me?"

He nodded almost shyly, fingers plucking at the sheets. "It's... like of course we know each other now, it still makes me feel better." Admitting it was almost more intimate than the sex they'd just had, a vulnerable detail.

"Yeah....it...does me too. Makes me feel better." He said, touching the scruff on Buck's face.

Bucky nodded, leaning his cheek into the touch of Steve's hand. "We're soppy, huh?" he mumbled.

"Yeah....but I think we have every excuse to be. You ever heard of two more fucked over guys than us?"

"Besides Bruce Banner...probably not."

"Well, you can invite him next if you want, I guess."

Bucky laughed. "We're not even fucking thirty, you realise that? Yeah, technically we're old as shit but not really."

"Yeah....it's just...weird, you know. And that's even if we'll age normally after this. We were both in stasis for so long--what if it slowed down everything...."

"Who d'you think's older now?" he asked, "Not sure how much time out of the past seventy years I was defrosted." Bucky thought about it, "Haven't really lived long enough since then to tell just how far the serum goes."

"You," he laughed. "You got to get out during your sleep. I didn't." He grinned. "Old timer."

Bucky snorted, "Hey you been out in the world a while, dealing with aliens and shit. Maybe you're the old fart here." he smiled at Steve's laughter, "I'm still the pretty one."

"Must be wonderful, being the pretty one. I'm the robust, handsome one," he informed him, grinning.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Rogers." he tossed his hair with a move copied out of a shampoo commercial, fluttering his eyes in exaggerated fashion.

"Well, since you're the pretty one, maybe I should buy you a dress and some perfume? Would that help you feel better about how big I am now?"

"Uh huh, you're a funny guy, Stevie." Bucky pinched his nipple for it, smirking. "Least I wouldn't get caught by the shoulders crawling through vents."

"Why would I need to crawl through vents?" He eyed him. "have you been spying on people, James Buchanon Barnes?"

"Why wouldn't you? Vents are awesome. Stark Tower's got nicely sized one's, haven't forgotten the Nerf gun war already have you?" Bucky pasted the worst imitation of an innocent look on his face, "Why Steve, I would never!"

"Who were you spying on? Stark and Pepper? Clint? You like Clint, don't you?" He grinned.

"Bird brain's a fun guy." he rolled his eyes, "Plays a mean game of Mario Kart." Bucky climbed up on Steve, straddling his waist. He stretched his arms, the mottled scarring around where the metal plates of his left arm went under his flesh pulling. "And Nat likes him too. I'm an equal opportunity spy though, no one left out." he chuckled.

Steve leaned back to give him room, hands settling at his hips. "Like watching him jerkoff while he's thinking of Nat?" He asked, grin saucy and embarrassed.

"You have a damn filthy mind, why am I only discovering this now?" Bucky, put his hands on Steve's shoulders. "does it make you hot thinking about that?"

"The 40s," he said, looking away and laughing a little. And then back up. "...w-well...I..." And then he thought about it. And, well...."I guess so. Maybe a little bit." He said, a little more shy.

"Pretty sure I told you some dirty stuff back then." he smiled, his gaze softened. "Well I didn't but you can plenty imagine I did." Bucky smirked. "Though Nat did spray me with water through one once. Said if I was gonna act like a cat she'd treat me like one."

"She sprayed you through a vent? So you were watching her?" he asked, nosing at the flesh-to-metal seam of Bucky's arm.

"Well, she was in her underwear, not getting off but -- the stuff they make for dames nowadays is criminal," he blinked and shuddered at it. It was still the oddest feeling to be touched there.

"Oh yeah? Describe it," he requested. His fingers massaged Bucky's sides.

Bucky swallowed thickly. The arm didn't end where it met flesh. it went under, plates bolted under his skin, the only way his body could've supported something so heavy. Stark's new arm was lighter and more advanced but the housing which joined it to him was the same, the extensive surgery it would have taken to change that had been too much for Bucky to comprehend and almost resulted in a panic attack when Tony explained it to him. "It was... lacy. Black lace, red satin underneath. She loves red. Wonder sometimes how any of us could like that colour still but -- just cupped her breasts perfectly. My brain was still half-melted and I wanted to touch cup them so bad -- I squawked when she sprayed me with the water bottle."

"Oh," Steve said, kissed that seam and nosed at Bucky's throat. "Sounds real pretty. If you'd said something, maybe she woulda let you." He smirked. "So long as you were...you know...gentle-like. I imagine that the cold metal would feel....pretty good, yeah?"

"You seem to like it pretty well." he answered, fidgeting and scraping his teeth along his lip as Steve did that. "Stevie..."

"Yeah, I do. It feels good--the--the contrast. So I imagine on her---would feel good too. You should try it, you know." He felt a flush of embarrassment and said the next line in a rush, "Touch yourself with the metal hand."

Bucky gasped, a hot shiver running up his spin. "Steve -- fuck." he licked his lips and slid his hand to comply. "Yes _sir_." cool metal around his cock and it was oddly -- almost like being touched by someone else, not himself. "Mmmm."

That _sir_ sent a hot twist in him. He braced Buck's back, watching his face. He swallowed hard. "Damn....you...you feel it? How...different it feels?"

"Yeah, fuck yeah I feel it." Bucky said huskily, sliding his metal palm over himself with easy strokes. "Feels good." he leaned into Steve's hand, bending his back in a way that showed off what he was doing completely.

Steve couldn't seem to help but look down, taking it in. "Yeah...l-like that. Good, right? Good...and...you're doing real good..."

"Oh Christ, I -- I like it when you order me around." he said it in a rush because it felt like he really, really shouldn't. Shouldn't like to take orders ever again but maybe it was pathological that when Steve asked Bucky jumped to. He groaned, jerking his hips and pushing his cock into his hand.

Steve's eyes darkened. "Then keep going, use your other hand to--to touch, Bucky. Do it."

"Yes... sir." he gulped, warm flesh fingers went between his legs, rubbing and squeezing. Bucky let out some sound like a whine, like a damn needy dog as both hands worked over himself. "Oh fuck, fuck..."

"You're good...doing good, Bucky." Steve leaned in, breathing lightly against the metal-flesh seam. "Doing good. Feels good, Buck."

"Yes, yes Steve -- I no, oh fuck, I don't know! I..." he's moaning now, hips rolling, hands working. "Oh Christ, Steve, I need to -- I'm gonna come..."

Steve suddenly reached it, made a ring around the base of his cock. He squeezed hard to keep him from coming. "Keep going, Bucky. You can't. Not until I say." He kept his thumb and middle finger tight around him.

"Steve!" he choked, his hands knocked against Steve's, "Not fair, not fair..." Bucky tellingly made no effort to break his grip though, "Oh god, Cap..." it was torture, torture of the good kind.

"Keep going. Maybe I'll tell you when you can come. I'm in control now. You keep going. Stroke, twist your fingers a little, Bucky. It'll feel good for you."

"Please!" he moaned, doing as he was told. Still all Bucky as he did it, not the bland obedience of the Soldier, no he obeyed with bared teeth and hissed breaths, eyes darkened with lust. "It's good, it's good!"

"How good is it? Tell me how it feels."

"I... I... it's so good, y-you and, God Steve, you're so warm." Those fingers were like a hot brand around his cock, "The contrast is fucking amazing."

"You want to come then. I was right, wasn't I? Tell me."

"I want to come! Oh fuck, I want to come, over your stomach, ah, Christ, Steve--"

Steve eased his fingers open and then wrapped his whole palm around Buck's length. He stroked slow, so slow and languid.

Bucky whined again, his fingers slipped away, let Steve's hand have more room to work. He rocked up into that hand, barely three times and he was coming over Steve's fingers, come splattering onto his stomach.

The smile on Steve that appeared at that moment was....almost rather predatory. A slash of a smirk across his face.

He was breathing hard, chest heaving, eyes dazed and barely focused, fighting to look at Steve. With a slow sigh, Bucky slumped slowly forward, pressing his face against Steve's shoulder.

Steve's intensity faded. He held Buck to him, gently combing fingers through his hair.

"You're the only person I ever want to take orders from again." he mumbled.

"Then I'll be that person for you whenever you need it."

He nodded gratefully, body feeling pleasantly numb. "Guess we need to shower again. It's getting some workout today."

"Maybe we should wait until we're sure we're done." He snorted, laughing a little.

Bucky laughed as well, "Good point, racking up that water bill." his kissed over his shoulder.

He laughed and then he picked Bucky up, carrying him into the bedroom to lay down with him.


	4. Secret Assassin Weak Spot

Bad days sometimes start like this.

The bad days aren't exactly common anymore but they are always on the horizon, always to be watched for, warned for. Sam had explained in patient tones that they would probably never go away, it could be thirty, forty years down the line and Bucky still might wake up screaming in the night, struggling to remember his own name. Steve could understand that. Shell shocked, he said. Sam had nodded. "They call it PTSD now. But it's the same."

So it starts like this. There's no screaming this time but when Bucky wakes up he's soaked in a cold sweat, shivering next to Steve's warm furnace of a body. He must not have thrashed too much or Steve would have woken and talked him out of it. There's a lingering feeling of _cold cold cold cold_ and metal between his teeth, iron on his tongue as he sits up and pushes both hands through his sleep-tangled hair. There a desperation in his head, a fog in his eyes. Clear it, desperately needs to clear it.

He doesn't want to wake Steve, he doesn't. Bucky tries to slip from the bed, silent and weightless like his programming taught him, quiet enough to walk into a room and slit a throat without the guards outside noticing -- just to find the bed soaked through with blood in the morning.

They're not dames, there's no dresser mirror in here, he has to go to the bathroom and drop his hands heavily onto the sink to gaze into his reflection. It's going to be a bad day. His skin is pale and clammy and his eyes haunted. "I'm Bucky, James Buchanan Barnes. That's my name," he whispered to the man in the mirror (disassociating is bad, bad). The man in the mirror is pulling back his lips and baring his teeth at the realization.

Stop.

Not the man in the mirror, him.

A haze, a tangle, like a jungle in a monsoon. Bucky stares into the mirror, staring deep into his own smoke-blue eyes. He swallows hard. His breathing sounds loud--really loud. Like Steve on any given day in spring in New York. Steve shouldn't see him like this. He'll have an asthma attack for sure. The thought slips away, staring into his own eyes. Deep inside.

Deep.

Like the sky or the sea, the ocean, watching it approach, every time he flung himself from a plane for a Spectral Op. Spectral...yeah, yeah, cause he's the Ghost. And when the Ghost looks into the abyss, the abyss smiles and looks back.

 

 

 

Steve stirred a bit later, blearily blinking and sitting up. "Buck?" he said to the empty room and got up, scratching his hair. He peaked into the bathroom. "Hey--y'okay?"

He's not sure how long he's been standing here, swaying a little in place, fingers creaking down upon the porcelain. It's as if time is nothing; back when he was a weapon it was nothing. Sit, stay, lie down. Left for hours to do nothing. Freeze, unfreeze.

Steve's voice startled him badly, he's not sure when he got the razor but there it is between metal finger and thumb. He twists and swipes out with it and would be grateful later that he wasn't actually close enough to cut Steve open.

Steve jerked, jumping back. "Bucky!" He yelps, grabbing up his combat knife from the dresser. "Bucky--hey, snap out of it!"

" _Get away from me!_ " he snapped in rapid-fire Russian, teeth bared. The sight of the knife had him shaking. "No, no!" His head started to pound, the sight of this man, this man... remembering his name made him whimper. Why was it so small in here? So small. His eyes flickered at the window as he held the razorblade in front of him defensively.

"Bucky! Calm down! Put the razor down! Now!" Steve commanded, trying to circle him. "Bucky--it's fine. It's all right. Just c'mon."

_Mission. Eliminate._

 A noise like strangled dog and Bucky threw himself forwards. It was like watching a wolf emerge, suddenly snarling with untamed power. He struck, vision blurring, time blurring around him. Failure was not an option, failure was fire in his brain.

"Bucky!" He yelled, dodging back. He used the knife to defend, deflect--but would not attack. He dodged around him. The razor was old-fashioned--Steve had always preferred them. But the gleaming four inch blade made him seriously consider getting those cheap plastic ones. He kicked his door in--it smashed into the hallway wall so he could dodge out for more room.

The Winter Soldier came on like a freight train, pursuing with single-minded determination. Each movement was powerful and unmeasured, no self-preservation, no sense of holding back, switching the razor to his right hand to strike out with the more powerful left metal fist.

Steve dodged and that hand punched through the wall, became caught on the inner brickwork, giving a second's delay before the Soldier could pull it free.

  
Steve jumped back. Furniture tipped, coffee table smashed and shattered. His phone went off on the table, the answering machine picked up:

 _Hey, Capsicle! We got a notification that police were called to your building! What's going on!_ Stark called.

Steve tripped on Bucky's old boots, falling into the kitchen--flipping himself up. They smashed into the china cabinet, dishes shattering around them. Grinding porcelain into their feet, leaving blood prints all around--

"Bucky!" He yelled again, grabbing up a saucepan to deflect.

Bucky snarled. He'd lost the razor and grabbed a kitchen knife instead. His fist punched hard enough to dent the saucepan and he followed instantly with a right hook--smashing into Steve's jaw, slashing at his face with the knife. He grabbed Steve and threw him bodily across the room before charging after.

Pain was nothing, his own wellbeing was nothing. He had to complete the mission.

Steve smashed into the cabinets so hard that they disintegrated around his body. Shattered glasses and mugs fell on him. Shards clung to his slashed arm like dirt.

Then--

Electricity. Sudden. Bucky jerked, smashing into the counter, shattering the sink as the tiny stinger hit his arm and another his leg, paralyzing flesh and metal for bare seconds. In a blur Natasha had burst through the window and leapt gracefully onto his back, the needle in her hand stabbing into the side of his neck.

Enough sedative to take down a bull brought the Winter Soldier crashing down onto his knees and then into unconsciousness.

 Steve panted, pushing himself up. "Natasha..." he breathed.

Natasha didn't move, the needle in Bucky's neck, the plunger pushed down until every last drop had gotten into his veins. She looked up at Steve finally and gingerly climbed off him. "I don't think you'll get your security deposit back." she said, a shaky look in her eyes before she could cover it.

"Yeah, probably not." He swallowed and shook out his fingers, wiping a small cascade of shards and glass from his fingers and hands. "He--uh, having a relapse today, I guess. Suppose we should secure him at Stark's tower?"

"Any idea what set it off?" Natasha nodded, professional airs coming back over her. She crossed to him, boots making cracking noises on the debris. "Yes. What I just gave him could keep him out for an hour, maybe less. We should have James somewhere safe." A slightly softer inflection curled around the name.

"No idea," Steve said. "Maybe he had a nightmare...maybe last night's spaghetti." He nodded. "Yeah. I'll carry him." Steve picked him up, heading for the door, leaving a trail of footprints.

"Steve..." she looked down at his feet, "Put on some shoes at least."

Steve waved a dismissive hand at the comment and Natasha shrugged and led him out to the car. "Stark's already got a clean up crew on the way."

When they got there Barton was in the drivers seat. "Should've let me pop him from across the street, Nat." He frowned.

"My way worked," she countered, helping Steve settle with Bucky in the back before climbing into the front seat. "Get a move on."

"Pop him?" Steve asked, straightening up. "You shoot him, Clint, and I'll rip your arms out of your sockets."

"With a tranquiliser!" Clint pulled his hands off the wheel to emphasize this clarification and Natasha smacked him to make him pay attention to the road. "Not to kill! I like the guy too, Cap. Christ you're scary."

 

It took them twenty minutes to reach the tower, then another five to bundle into the elevator and reach the secure level of the tower, fully designed to be able to withstand Hulk levels of violence.

 Upstairs there was a warm painted room, soothing colors, anything but clinical and cold. Bruce was there, helping them ease Bucky onto the bed, another injection to keep him under just another hour and let him come out of it slowly.

Jarvis would be monitoring at all time. "Do you want to stay in here and wait, Steve?" Natasha asked him.

 Steve paced the room. "I'll stay nearby. Tell me as soon as he wakes up..."

"I will," she said quietly. Natasha made herself comfortable by the bed.

Eventually Bucky would wake, murmuring softly in confusion. " _Hey, James_." Natasha said gently, in Russian, her fingers brushing through his tangled hair.

" _Natalia_." he mumbled, _"You are_."

" _I am_." she confirmed with a warm smile and switched to English. "Jarvis, please let Steve know James is awake."

Bucky tensed, still speaking Russian," _I hurt him, I hurt him again._ "

" _Shhh,_ " she gentled him, continuing to pet his hair. " _He's okay, he's fine._ "

The door popped open, hitting the wall. "Bucky!" Steve cried.

The loud bang had Bucky's eyes wide and his body trying to move to a defensive position, hampered by the still lingering sedative.

" _It's okay, it's Steve, just Steve_." Natasha grounded him with her voice and touch. Then switched to English again. "Look, James. Just look."

Bucky swallowed hard and looked -- he saw Steve, not a suit, not a white-coated HYDRA scientist. Just -- "Steve..."

Steve hurried up to him. "Buck? Are you okay? Bucky?"

"I hurt you," he said quietly, teeth pulling at his lip. Bucky stared up at Steve. "Didn't I?"

"Tch--no way! I'm fine! What are you worried about! I'm awesome! Tch, you couldn't hurt a fly." He smiled.

"Fuck off, Rogers." Bucky felt his mouth smiling for him, "You try too hard."

"Really does." Natasha hummed.

"Tch--since when it that news? I seem to remember you telling me that I must enjoy getting beat up when we were in New York."

"I don't remember that. You could be lying."

Steve snorted. "You will eventually. You'll also remember that I'm a terrible liar." 

"He is a terrible liar," Natasha agreed.

Bucky suddenly realized he could lift his arms, "... you didn't tie me down."

"We didn't need to, James."

Steve smiled, softer. "It's okay, Bucky. Remember, I told you--I knew there would be relapses. It's okay."

"Shoulda still done it, Nat." he sighed, "Better safe than not. Your accelerated healing can't hide from me, Steve." Bucky felt dull pain from his feet. "Must have smashed the place up pretty bad."

"Don't worry--I'll fix it. Seriously, Bucky. It's okay."

"I'm still sorry." Bucky shook his head, lips turned down at the corners. He felt ill at the thought. "I was so cold when I woke up. I thought I could push it back."

"Bucky I understand. it's okay. I knew you were going to have relapses sometimes. Besides, I can sell your arm for scrap to pay for the damages." 

There was a twist in his lips, like the acceptance hurt him, like Steve's open, earnest caring was too blinding for him to look at. Natasha knew the look well, the look of the man who still struggled against years of being a thing, an object, unworthy of the most basic of human compassion, expecting blame and dismissal. It was almost as painful to be loved as it was to be hated for people like them and slower still to get used to.

"One day I could really kill you."

Steve shrugged. " You could....but you won't." Steve said, simply. He smiled.

"How do you have so much damn faith in me?" Bucky said, voice suddenly hoarse, struggling. He leaned his head further into Natasha's touch.

This was old ground, a conversation retrodden over and over by necessity.

"You're my best friend. That's all I need. You didn't shoot me in the street. You didn't kill me on the helicarrier. I'm afraid I've got your number, Buck."

Bucky huffed, looking at Natasha. "He's a damn punk, always gets in over his head."

Natasha hummed, "You like him for it."

"You're supposed to be on my side."

She gave him a playfully nonplussed look and glanced at Steve, "Did you know about this? I don't remember agreeing to anything of the sort."

Steve raised his eyebrows, seeing now how she looked at them. Not individually but as a _unit_. " Bucky. I did not take you for a gossip."

"Even if he hadn't I'm not blind, Steve." she smiled, "And James taught me most everything I know."

Bucky laughed, it was barely a laugh but it counted. "Nat's the only one not crazy around here."

"I suppose it's fair. he told me about you and him after all." He smiled at Natasha.

She raised an eyebrow and looked down at Bucky. "Geez, you really are a gossip."

He gave a helpless sort of smile, "Paris." he told her. "It was a good night."

"It was." Natasha agreed. "I'm glad you remember it."

"He liked the story." Bucky wriggled his eyebrows.

"Don't tell her that!!" Steve cried out.

"Except we--" he started to trail off.

Natasha cut in before Bucky could slip into bad territory, "That mark deserved it, trust me, James." and she suddenly grinned at Steve. "Did you really, Steve?"

Steve sputtered. "Don't say it like that! I'm not a pervert!"

"Calm down, Steve. You're only human. Well, superhuman." Natasha teased him, "James wouldn't have told you if he thought I would mind."

Bucky half-closed his eyes. "We're good at secrets."

"Says the gossip."

"You don't mind?" Steve asked. 

"I have nothing to be embarrassed about," she told Steve, eyes watching him closely. "I never forgot how James trained me, how he protected me in his own way in that time until he started to remember too much and they took him away."

Bucky was drifting under her hand, "You were the only one who was ever able to touch me, to stand touching me, none of the other girls came close."

"I got a knife in his shoulder." Natasha explained to Steve. "Just in case you were thinking he meant a normal touch."

Steve looked thoughtful. "A knife in his shoulder, eh? During training or during sex?" He asked, fighting a smile.

She laughed, "Training. Which I think James has been doing to you, he's coming along well." she complimented the half-dozing man. "The sex never got quite that far."

Bucky made a slow thumbs up with his metal fist. "It could. We're still young."

Steve smiled a little. If that didn't sound like old-Bucky, nothing did. 

"I'm petting the deadliest assassin in the world." Natasha deadpanned.

Bucky snorted, "Пальцы Стива слишком толстые."

"Steve doesn't understand Russian, James."

"You have pretty slender fingers, Nat."

Steve smiled at them. It was warm and fond. "You two fit well together."

Natasha snorted, smiling back, "Come pet your boyfriend, Rogers. He's just a big puppy when you get to know him. We'll think about letting you into the former Soviet assassin club."

 _I do know him_ , the thought came reflexively to Steve's mind, darkening his eyes for a moment. He pushed that away and approached Bucky, running fingers through his brown hair.

Bucky made a soft sound. "Okay this forever. I approve of this."

"We discovered the secret, Steve." Natasha winked at him.

"I already knew it," Steve said softly.

"You two are so adorable, if I didn't respect your privacy I'd be posting this all over twitter." she watched them fondly.

"Don't," Steve said, face darkening again. "It's bad enough around here."

"I'll leave you two kids alone. I assume you'll be staying until your apartment is fixed."

"Bucky will stay here. I'll make repairs at the apartment. Don't let Tony hassle him too much."

"I'll try and hold the fort." Natasha promised.

She left them to it, Bucky nudging his head into Steve's hand. "Don't leave."

"Of course I won't," he said, sitting beside him and continuing to massage his head.

"I'd let you in my club any day." he told him, half-slurring the words. "... did we have a club?"

Steve smiled a little sadder. "No," he said. "We didn't."

"Oh. We could count the Howling Commandos, was sort of a club."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Steve said quietly.

Bucky opened his eyes, "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "Just get some rest, Bucky."

"I don't want to sleep. I..." he hesitated, "I'm scared to." Insomnia had been an issue when Bucky was first brought in.

"You will wake up again, Buck. If I have to punch you myself. Be good payback for destroying my apartment." He grinned.

Bucky reached over, touching his hand gingerly.

Steve's smile saddened. He nodded. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

 


End file.
